


Fulcrum:  Part Two

by blueenvelopes935



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Betrayed!, Dark and Twisted, Dead Wifey, Dubious Consent, Emperor Ren, Empress Rey, Everyone Misses Hux and So Do I, F/M, Force Healing, Kinda Embarrassed to Have Written this Fic, Lots of Secrets, Milo Has Seen it All, Never Trust A Sith, People Die In My Fics--You Are Warned!, Profanity, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo Separation, Reylo Twins, Sith Family Values, Sith Lore, Sith Resurrection, Sith Sex, The Past Never Ends if You're a Skywalker, Think Your Family is Bad? At Least You're Not A Skywalker, Troubled Marriage, True Sith Behavior, Unhealthy Relationships, Very AU, not for everyone, this is so trashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 96,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueenvelopes935/pseuds/blueenvelopes935
Summary: Things were supposed to get easier once the war was over and the First Order won, right?  Don't count on it, Emperor Ren.  Because Snoke aka Darth Plagueis has a hard time keeping his hands off Empress Rey.   The reason might surprise you.  And watch out because women always figure out the truth.  Always.  This story brings together the plot lines and characters of The Fifth Wife and Fulcrum.  References to events and characters from those stories will not be explained.





	1. Chapter 1

FULCRUM: PART TWO

 

This is the continuation of my Reylo fan fic _Fulcrum_. I wrote this continuation in response to an anonymous AO3 reader comment. Thank you, guest reader whoever you are, for suggesting this story.

 

You are hereby warned that the premise here is pretty trashy. Like really twisted trashy. Read the tags (which I plan to update as we go), read the warnings, and suspend your expectations because everything I write is Alternative Universe run amok.

 

This continuation brings together the plot lines and characters of _The Fifth Wife_ and _Fulcrum_. If you are going to read this, do yourself a favor and go read _The Fifth Wife_ .  It’s a light read and NO ONE DIES!

 

This continuation story grew out of the original Epilogue for _The Fifth Wife_ that I crossposted to _Fulcrum._ And so I have decided to keep the Epilogue as this initial chapter, with some small edits to fit my new story. So go ahead and read this first chapter even if you read the Epilogue I posted. If I were writing this continuation from scratch, I would not have started my story this way, but since the Epilogue is already out there I’m keeping it as the beginning. It prolongs the story set up a bit, but bear with me for the first few chapters. Things will get moving.

 

This fic was inspired a bit by _The Marriage of Figaro_. But this is not a comedy.

 

There are spoilers here for _Fulcrum_ (obviously) and for _The Fifth Wife_.  

 

This is an Alternative Universe fic. Meaning it is not canon and never will be. And Snoke’s backstory deviates from the EU novel Plagueis. I have tried hard to preserve continuity in ideas about the Force, the Jedi, the Sith and the events that show up in both _Fulcrum_ and _The Fifth Wife_.  I only broke once from this concept—In _Fulcrum_ , Snoke tells Kylo that he kept his wife a secret from all but Sidious. That was way too limiting and it didn’t fit with my concept of the pre-prequel era Sith being out in the open in disguise. Don’t fret over continuity, timeline etc. It’s fan fic and it’s supposed to be fun.

 

Definitely nonconsensual/dubious consent stuff here. The Sith are not big on consent. And whereas Snoke is not the brute Kylo is at the start of _Fulcrum_ , he’s still not giving a lot of choices here. If you have read _The Fifth Wife_ , you have an idea of how Snoke has entrapped women. He’s the money laundering Sith who once bought one of his wives off a Hutt, remember?

 

This is a work of fan fiction. I make no claim on the intellectual property of LucasFilm or Disney.

 

* * *

 

_40-ish years ABY, at the fortress hideaway of Supreme Leader Snoke_

 

“I didn't know you could do such a thing,” Rey whispers in horror. “To strip someone of the Force.” She looks down at her hands as she says this. They are pulsing now with the restorative magic of the Light. Rey’s small hands are not to be judged by their size, for they are capable and powerful. And they are resting on the shoulders of the most powerful man who has ever lived. He is the eternal Muun, the architect of two empires and a Sith for all ages.   Darth Plagueis the Wise.

 

Rey shifts back to the chair at the side of Supreme Leader Snoke’s throne. She is so far gone in pregnancy now that she must change positions every so often. For no matter how comfortable it might feel to get off her feet, before long even sitting begins to hurt.

 

“It was a draconian punishment. Seldom used in modern times.” The Sith Master intones his words in that low, slow growl of his. This man is never in a rush, it seems. For unlike everyone else, Darth Plagueis has all the time in the world.  

 

“I tried in vain for many years to restore their Force. If a Sith had Force-severed them, I might have reversed it. But the Jedi had blinded them both behind a wall of Light, and I could not penetrate it. And none of the Jedi I captured could do so either.”

 

Captured? More like captured and tortured, Rey thinks. She can only imagine the Dark persuasive powers of this Sith. Leader Snoke is not a man who takes no for an answer. How it must have frustrated him to be unable to help his family.

 

Rey leans forward now to inspect the skin on his face. The movement brushes her heavy belly against Snoke’s arm resting on his throne. When a year ago Rey first had been summoned by Kylo’s Master for Force healing, she might have blushed and stammered an apology at this small intimacy. But she has grown accustomed to the personal touch required for healing him. It helps that Snoke never loses his formal, courtly demeanor through it all. The Sith does not consider it awkward for her body to touch his, and so Rey now treats it the same way.

 

He turns into her at the sensation and reaches up with his giant Muun hand to spread spindly fingers across her swollen belly. “Sssstrong. So ssstrong,” he relishes his words as he strokes the fabric of her dress. “Your twin Sith grow strong, my lady.” Rey smiles back her acknowledgement and he confides, “One day these boys will be as much mine as they are yours.”

 

Yes, she knows. Life with Kylo Ren has taught Rey what it means to be a Skywalker prince. To owe allegiance first and foremost to this Muun, then to power and then to all else.   Her sons will be no different, and she has come to accept this.  

 

Rey returns to her inspection. Yes, his right cheek definitely looks better. But the left side—the ruined side of Snoke’s visage—still has a long way to go.

 

The Sith sits back and returns to his tale. He likes to talk while she heals. Most of the time, he speaks of the Force. For like Kylo, this Sith loves to speak of the Force. But more often of late, the old Muun speaks of himself. Slowly, little by little, revealing the mystery behind the man the galaxy only knows as the reclusive Supreme Leader.

 

“Shan still had all of her power but she could not access it. In time, the Force began to bleed back through to her somewhat. She began having visions again. And then I could feel her Light again too. But never again could my wife control the Force upon command.”

 

“She let me study her. And in doing so, I learned a great deal about the nature of the Force and about what it means to have an Awakening, like you experienced.” The Muun’s dark eyes slant over to Rey for a moment. She knows he loves to talk about the details of her Awakening. For every minute aspect of the Force interests him. “But all my knowledge of the Force and all my ability to prolong and to restore life has only ever accrued to my own benefit. Never was I able to restore or save the ones I loved most.”

 

She catches the plaintive cast that flashes across the Supreme Leader’s features. “You never got to rule the galaxy with her,” Rey says the words before she can stop herself and instantly regrets them. She has no wish to rub salt in this man’s wounds. And Rey herself knows what it means to feel loss.

 

He must feel the streak of her compassion in the Force, for he crooks a half smile at her. The old Muun rarely smiles and when he does it is a grotesque distortion of his ruined face. But oddly enough, it has the same effect as if he were young and handsome. This Sith was once a charismatic man, Rey thinks.   And the vestiges of it still remain.

 

As she has spent more time with Kylo’s fearsome Master, Rey has discovered that he is surprisingly likable. And, on occasion, even vulnerable.

 

“We did have good years together. Our lives became very intertwined with her work in my library and my work in the Force. I shared more with her than with any of the others before.” Snoke busies himself straightening his sleeve and for the briefest of moments she thinks he is uncomfortable. But when he looks up, he is the same inscrutable Sith as ever. “Never have I cared for a woman as much as my Shan. She was an exemplary wife to the end.” His expression softens and Rey can tell he is remembering long ago. “Yes. We Sith are hard on our women.”

 

And Rey can’t help but silently agree. For she knows that loving and being loved by a Sith has its costs.

 

“What happened to the child?” Rey is almost afraid to ask this question, but she has babies on the mind these days and it seems a fair question.   She thinks of how much Kylo wants his Skywalker Sith dynasty and she wonders whether a younger Snoke had once felt the same way.

Snoke gives the answer she fears. “Sidious killed him.” The Muun speaks of it very matter of fact, but perhaps it was so long ago that the hurt is gone.   “The boy would never have posed a threat to him, but Sidious killed him anyway out of spite. Sheev Palpatine was like that. But in the end, my son delivered my revenge.”

 

Rey doesn’t follow. “I don't understand.   I thought your son was dead?”

 

And this question makes Snoke flash another half smile. “I had another son. Created in the Force quite by accident and born to a slave woman.   It was years before I knew about him, and the Jedi found him first.” Snoke is watching her closely now. He’s enjoying revealing more of his past.  

 

“Ultimately my son did fulfill my wife's visions. He slaughtered the Jedi in the temple and then went on to hunt down the remaining Jedi over the years. He beheaded Dooku as well. And in the end, my son threw Sidious down a reactor shaft.   All who had wronged my family were made to pay in the end: the Jedi, Tyranus and Sidious all fell to my son’s sword.” Snoke’s satisfaction for this decades old vengeance flashes out to Rey in the Force.   It’s a bubble of Dark power. Pride and wrath combining.

 

Yet again, Rey does not follow. “But I thought Vader killed Sidious?” That’s what Kylo had told her.

 

“Vader did kill my Apprentice.” Snoke’s eyes dart to hers and for a moment the old Muun looks like a wicked boy caught in a prank. “Anakin Skywalker was my progeny in the Force. He was the Sith son I created but did not sire.”

 

“But that means—“ Rey stops as understanding dawns.

 

“Yesss,” the eternal Sith purrs out this word as he sees Rey connect the dots in her mind.   “Kylo Ren is my great grandson in the Force.”

 

“And then Luke Skywalker was your grandson.” Rey’s eyes are wide now as she completes the thought. The Sith Master had trained his great-grandson to kill his grandson. How very Skywalker of him, Rey thinks to herself with a frown.

 

“Indeed.” Snoke never bothers to hide that he reads her thoughts. And Rey has never learned to shield them. “The Skywalkers have always killed their own.” The Muun looks at Rey long and hard. “My dear, I am no exception.”

 

Rey nods. She is under no illusions about this Sith. Or any other Sith. She knows what they are capable of. Or at least she thinks she knows.

 

And now Kylo’s Master is issuing her a stern warning. “Lady Rey, never let your command of the Force fool you to believe that you have complete control. Destiny is real. It is a dangerous thing to attempt to avoid fate. My wife paid dearly for it. Years later, Ren's grandfather made the same mistake.”

 

Wait—what? “What mistake did Vader make?” For all Kylo has spoken to Rey of his grandfather, never once has he been critical.

 

“Vader too tried to subvert the will of the Force. It is a fool’s errand. Vader wanted to save his wife from death in childbirth. But in the end, he lost her and more.   For he lost his children to the Jedi.”

 

“Which led to thirty years of war,” Rey says aloud. She is unhappily familiar with the fallout that came from the Jedi stealing Vader’s newborn children so many years ago.   The patricide, the matricide and the suffering.   The endless war, the Death Stars and the Starkiller.

 

“Indeed,” Snoke agrees.   And he is not done with his musings for today it seems. For he continues, “The Force is not fair, Rey. Do not expect it to be so.   At best, it gives rough justice. And then, only in the aggregate. Rarely for an individual.   The Force seeks balance, but it does not promise equality.”

 

Shan nods at his wisdom. The Sith Master is back to speaking of the Force. And ultimately, whatever he speaks about, it always comes back to the Force. At first Rey had wondered if the old Muun missed having an apprentice to teach.   And she worried that he might seek to lure her into Darkness. But she has come to understand that Snoke likes having someone to talk to about the Force. And sometimes, she wonders if he just likes having someone to talk to about anything. For the Supreme Leader spends hours in solitude.

 

“I will never endanger your Light,” he promises softly. Yes, he’s in her mind again. And it is so effortless and so subtle, and Snoke’s presence so familiar now, that Rey doesn’t even notice any longer.   And, to be honest, she doesn’t mind. She has learned to accept things she cannot change.

 

“I need your Light.” The old Sith holds her gaze for a long moment. “I want your Light,” he breathes out these words quietly.

 

Yes, Rey knows that all Sith secretly crave the Light. Darth Plagueis is no exception. Her healing helps to slowly knit back together his decrepit, broken body. And it helps to balm the terrible void that is this man’s lost soul.   For Darkness is all-consuming and over time it takes its toll.

 

From her very first visit, it was evident that the old Muun had been too long bereft of the Light. Rey couldn’t help but see his involuntary shiver when first she laid her hands upon him. Rey still feels his excitement at watching her draw upon the Light. For healing is first and foremost hope, and hope is in short supply on the Dark Side.

 

Snoke is in her head again and nodding his agreement with her assessment. “My dear, the darker the Sith, the stronger his call to the Light. When Kylo Ren first came to me with news of you I knew it for a sign of his maturity as a Sith. That I could expect great things from my Apprentice. For only a Sith grown very dark would crave the Light enough to . . . “   Snoke’s voice trails off and he does not finish the thought.

 

Rey stands now to walk around to his left side to take a close look. She is not squeamish. You can’t grow up on Jakku and be squeamish. And after looking upon a horribly burned TIE pilot on the _Finalizer_ , Rey feels she can look upon any suffering calmly.

 

Even this suffering. Snoke has told her that some of his wounds came from a lightsaber and that some had come from a decapitator disc.   For many long years, Snoke confided, he wore a respirator. But with sufficient Dark power, he managed to overcome that physical weakness. But while Darkness can strengthen, it does not heal. Only the Light can heal. And so decades later the eternal Muun has a barely closed hole in what remains of his left jaw. Paper thin grey skin covers the remainder of his sunken cheek. And he is still missing half of his left ear.

 

He cocks his head in her direction and Rey knows this for her cue. She reaches out to cradle his ruined face lovingly in her hands as she might a child. Then she closes her eyes to summon the Force with her most focused concentration.

 

Darth Plagueis too closes his eyes to submit to her Light.

 

“Tell me more about your wife,” she says. And Snoke needs no further prompting for he is in a mood to talk today.  

 

“We are all a product of our times. Experience always leaves its mark. And the late Republic was a different era than now. There was still much prosperity even if it was concentrated in the hands of a few. And there was still idealism and faith in institutions and leaders. In the end all of that proved to be misplaced, but it was there all the same. The galaxy at large was more innocent, more trusting back then. And few were more innocent and trusting than my Shan.”  

 

Rey listens silently to his remembrances, observing how his jaw moves as he speaks. Whoever struck this blow surely had thought it to be mortal. She wonders whether the injury is why he speaks so slowly, or whether the Muun has always had this deliberate cadence that has you hanging on every word.

 

“My Shan had none of your grit, Empress. She would never have survived Jakku or Kylo Ren. She was a fragile thing.   Book smart, not street smart. Trusting and naive. Easily bullied and shy of conflict.   All the things that you are not.” Rey’s eyes are closed again, but she can hear the smile in his words. “I would never have been able to trap you into marriage in my temple.”

 

This covert praise makes Rey smile in response.

 

“Shan was a convent bred Jedi girl, sheltered from the pleasures and the pressures of the outside world.   Told what to think and what to do for all the days of her life until she met me.”

 

“She disarmed me so.   She was all Light, with no Darkness mixed in. My opposite in so many ways. And that is how she came to love me. She saw the best in me for that is the nature of the Light. To hope and to believe and to support.” He slants another approving glance at Rey. “That is why every Sith needs a Jedi wife. Because then their woman can be an equal without being a rival.”

 

“Did she ever teach at a university?” Rey wants to know.

 

“She did. The loss of the Force served to encourage my Shan to pursue other things. Ultimately, she took a professor post on Coruscant.   And she worked long hours to preserve the chronicles of the Sith. Much of what survives of my library is her work, and for that generations of Sith shall be grateful to Lady Plagueis.”

 

He opens his eyes again to regard her steadily. “Yes . . . there is always growth in adversity. Although few people know that as well as you do, my lady.”

 

Again, rare praise from the eternal Sith. Rey feels her cheeks bloom slightly. “Did all of your wife’s visions come true?” she asks.

 

“Indeed. As the decades unfolded I saw occur what she had seen. The clarity of her foresight was impressive. The very first vision I knew her to have was of your husband making his Sith lightsaber. So many decades later when the runaway Skywalker padawan showed up at my doorstep, I recognized him immediately.”

 

“The boy needed a sword.   So I gave him the kyber crystal from my wife's wedding ring to build it.   It was cracked by then.   Sidious hacked my dear wife brutally when he killed her, and the crystal had been damaged. But I thought it fitting to give it to Ren.”

 

Rey thinks of Kylo’s ragged, unstable blade. She wonders whether he knows the story behind the cracked crystal. The jewel struck from the hand of a doomed Sith wife that would power a sword used to win back an empire.

 

“Why did you not make her immortal like yourself?” Rey wants to know.

 

And the question provokes a long sigh of true regret from the Sith. “She kept delaying me. My Shan always wanted another child and I could not guarantee to her that it would not harm her fertility.”

 

Rey understands. She might have made the same choice herself in that circumstance.

 

“Would she have liked me?” Rey asks on impulse. And then she blushes at the insecurity the question betrays. Vader’s queen probably would have turned her nose up at the new Empire’s scavenger Empress, Rey thinks. But what about Shan Damask?

 

The Muun ponders for a moment before he answers. “You would have intimidated her in some respects. And she might have done the same for you. But yes, she would have liked you. Shan liked everyone.” Snoke pauses to amend that statement. “Everyone except Sidious.”

 

“Sidious hated my wife from the start because she was Jedi.   He never accepted the truth that Dark and Light will always co-exist.   Not on equal terms, of course, but co-exist nonetheless.   Sidious wanted to eradicate the Light and he and Vader tried mightily. But the Force always strikes back when it is tipped too far out of balance.   And so the Light was resurgent in the end.”

 

The Sith purses his lips as he tells of the fateful comeuppance of the First Emperor. “The Light came out of Darkness, of all places.   Ren’s grandfather killed his Sith Master, which is the aim of every Apprentice. Only Vader didn't do it for power, he did it to save his son. In the end, Sidious and Vader destroyed one another and the Light survived.” From the cold tone of his voice, Rey can appreciate how much Snoke relishes this irony.  

 

“Sidious was jealous. I failed to comprehend the depths of his jealousy.   I am a Muun and we are an objective, abstract species. We compartmentalize our feelings in a way humans do not. Human nature was not as well known to me back then, and I failed to grasp how my Apprentice had grown to feel threatened and resentful.”   Snoke’s voice is very quiet now and Rey can feel the seething emotions underlying his words and threatening to flare. “Sidious struck her first. That is the only reason I lived that night.   Because my Apprentice wasted time butchering her.”

 

Rey says nothing. She is holding her breath now as she feels in the Force Snoke reliving the moment. It’s a flash of pure rage and despair and then it is gone. The private pain channeled down deep in this man’s Dark heart to become fuel for his power. For intense emotion is the stock and trade of a Sith.

“The pain of her loss still stings deeply.” Snoke’s tone is normal again now. His speech once more the usual slow declaration.   “But the love remains. When lovers promise forever, this is what it means. That even the memory is cherished once the beloved is gone.   For it is true what they say, Empress. It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” He’s looking down now, not meeting her eyes.

 

“Do you think that you will you ever marry again?” Rey asks this without thinking and then colors red at her forwardness. She’s about to apologize when she sees the old Sith smiling indulgently at her.

 

“Oh, if I have to, I shall take another wife. When the time is right.” He leans forward in his chair and he’s still smiling. “You must heal me well, my dear. Make me whole and handsome again. So my lady will not shrink from my touch.”

 

His light banter provokes her to tease him back. “Where are you going to find another Jedi?”

 

“Oh, if there is a sixth wife, she won't be a Jedi this time. But it will be a lady full of the Light. You know how much we Sith lust for the Light.” Snoke gives her a knowing look and she’s not sure if he’s talking about himself or about her husband. “But until then, you are here to give me the Light.”

 

He frowns as he reaches up his skeletal hand to brush at her cheek. Then to wipe at the perspiration beading on her forehead. “You overtax yourself,” he chides her. “I draw too much of your strength. You are in a delicate condition, my dear. We must not tire you.”

 

“But I'm getting better,” Rey protests, thinking this to be criticism of her work. Force healing is very draining, but over time she has built up stamina.

 

“And I am getting better too,” he responds. His eye holds a twinkle. And she can’t help but laugh. It lightens the mood. “That is enough for today,” he dismisses her gently.

 

Rey nods and withdraws her hands. As always, Snoke rises to walk her to the door. He is a formal man who stands when she enters a room and bows her out. And while her life as Kylo’s Empress holds a great deal of overdone pomp, this man’s courtly manners never feel forced. They just feel very . . . him. As grave and considered as everything this Sith says or does.  

 

They are at the exit to his audience chamber now, and she and Snoke replay their customary goodbye. She offers her hand, he raises it to his lips. “Now and forever,” he bids her, “You shall belong to the Sith.” Then he bows and she leaves.

 

It is four hours home to Bast Castle in hyperspace, and Rey busies herself on her datapad. It doesn't take much effort to find Hego Damask on the holonet, even almost ninety years later. In his heyday, the secret Sith had been a man of much public interest. Rey scrolls down past news articles and profile pieces and even a biography or two. She’s not interested in words, she wants pictures. And there are hundreds.

 

She slows down now, swiping through photograph after photograph. Rey sees candid news media shots of Snoke at his IGBC work. He’s testifying before various public committees, giving an address to the Senate, then disembarking from a transport with a trail of assistants in his wake. Always, surrounded by the trappings of great wealth and great power. It’s interesting and she’ll take another look, but it’s not what Rey wants to find. She keeps swiping until she gets to the party pictures. Yes, this is what she had been looking for—the social Sith. There are many, many photographs captioned as diplomatic receptions, state dinners, charity benefits and galas. Rey pauses on one that catches her eye because the camera had caught him laughing.

 

This, then, was he. The immortal, accidental patriarch of the dysfunctional Skywalker clan, the man whose line has been both Jedi and Sith. The mastermind of the grand plan to fell a Republic and raise an empire. He lived to see it all come to fruition but he never got to rule it. Not until generations later after years in exile spent biding his time waiting in the wings. For Snoke has what no one else does—the time to wait.

 

Rey looks closer, considering the younger, much more animated version of the Snoke she knows. Here was the secret Sith exposed in the open as he engineered his plots.   Here was the man before the wars, before the empires and before the heartache. If she squints, she can see the eternal Muun she visits to heal once a week. The man with a mighty scar running down his forehead as if his skull were once cleaved in two.   Rey has only seen a few Muuns in her life but even she can tell that the uninjured Snoke was handsome for his kind.   He is charismatic even in an old photograph, for she can’t help but smile just looking at his laughter.

 

At his side stands a Muun woman. Her face is sweetly pretty and open natured. She looks like the kind of woman who has no poker face and wouldn't want one. Wouldn't even know what to do with one. Her long dress is severe and elegant but her body beneath is lush and soft.   It's a memorable contradiction, for simultaneously Shan Damask looks approachable and sophisticated. Not the least bit aloof. Rey can see how this woman might have been the perfect First Lady--someone the masses might admire from afar but an individual might relate to.   A woman who could walk among viceroys and chancellors, but still have the common touch.

 

And she was a Sith's lady, like herself. Beloved of a man she died saving. Studying her Rey sees now that Shan Damask was feminine in a way that even eclipses the photographs she has memorized of Darth Vader’s Naboo queen. Snoke’s wife looks almost vulnerable as she stands with his arm encircled about her waist.   And the easy confidence of their public intimacy surprises Rey. For she and Kylo don’t so much as hold hands together in public.

 

Rey looks at the date of the photograph and mentally does the math. Yes, by this time Snoke's stolen bride had already lost her Force. And here she was, the disgraced Jedi looking gorgeous and smiling on the arm of the richest, most powerful man in the galaxy. The Sith might have given her Snoke's promised justice, but Rey thinks being happy was this woman's best revenge.

 

Shan Damask had been a fully trained Jedi Knight and a woman long grown when she had met her Sith. Not an orphan teenager newly awakened in the Force and accidentally caught up in a war. In her worst predicament, Shan Damask had slept in the relative comfort of an Ivy League library and not a downed Imperial walker. And while Snoke’s wife had scraped by for a time in the dubious Coruscant Underworld, she had never had to forage for food and water. She had never starved.   Still Lady Plagueis had her share of troubles, Rey thinks. And they had culminated in her Sith finding her one day collapsed on his doorstep, begging for his help.   Help, it turned out, that he could not provide.

 

Maybe, Rey muses as she absently strokes her itchy belly, she and Shan Damask are not as different as Snoke believes. For Lady Plagueis had been a survivor in her own way. Rey is certain of that fact.

 

And perhaps that’s what it means to be a Sith’s lady—that if you are lucky, you will endure both the Sith and their enemies and in the end you will find a way to make peace with it all.   That’s what Shan Damask did all those years ago and that’s what Rey too has managed. Poor Lady Vader, Rey thinks, for she never got the chance even to try.  

 

And that spurs Rey’s curiosity. She starts searching the holonet for the Cresta Cole woman. She spells the name as many ways as she can think of. But Rey can find no record of her or any other woman linked to Senator Palpatine or the First Emperor.   There is no record of her businesses either.   Knowing the Sith like she does, Rey thinks this is no accident. Someone went to great lengths to make that woman anonymous.

 

The shuttle has landed back at Bast Castle now and Rey struggles to her feet. At seven months pregnant with twins, getting up and down takes an effort. As she stiffly plods her way down the ramp, Rey’s eyes find Old Milo waiting to greet her.

 

“Welcome home, Empress.” His bow is formal but his smile is friendly and genuine.

 

Rey’s eyes flit over her friend and mentor, the dignified castlekeeper trusted first by Vader and then by Kylo Ren. And before that, she now knows, by Darth Plagueis himself. Long has Milo served the Sith.   Here is a man who knows it all and who Rey trusts tell her the truth.   For there is nothing Milo loves so much as telling tales of the glory days of the Empire.

 

“Thank you, Milo.” She gladly accepts the old man’s offered arm. Her balance is not what it once was.   Impulsively, she leans in to him to ask, “Will you tell me about Cresta Cole.”

 

“Cresta Cole,” he repeats slowly. The old retainer’s eyes widen and he stops to look at her anew. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time. A long time.” The keeper looks thoughtful for a moment but he resumes walking. “My old master has been telling stories of the past, I see.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Cresta Cole.” He repeats the name again and now Rey’s curiosity is running rampant as Milo stalls.

 

“What was she like?”

 

He pauses a long time before answering. “My old master did not approve of Darth Sidious’ choice of companion,” the old man admits, and this Rey already knows. “Cresta Cole was what some might call a piece of work,” Milo begins, his eyes twinkling. “She was . . . complicated.   Now come inside, my dear. Let’s get you off your feet.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

Creation is the far harder achievement than destruction.   It requires pragmatism and a healthy, maybe even foolhardy, sense of optimism in the face of the failures of all those who have come before.   Why bother to try again?   Because now and forever the Sith shall rule the galaxy. And because no one makes the transports run on time like the Sith.

 

So muses Emperor Ren as he checks his datapad and stands to stretch his long legs. Half an hour left before his shuttle lands at Bast Castle on Naboo. Half an hour until Rey.

 

Being CEO of the galaxy is not easy. Especially when your Chairman of the Board Sith Master is quick with his criticism. Kylo Ren wishes he too could hang out all day reading intelligence reports, watching stock exchange tickers and communing with the Dark Side, but as Emperor he has things to do, people to see and orders to give.

 

Being in charge means your job is never done.

 

It was supposed to get easier once the war was over. But governing an Empire is harder than winning one in many respects.   And after twenty years of war, Kylo misses it. Misses the rush of combat, the easy camaraderie of the Knights of Ren, the thrill of a narrow escape, and the Dark mastery that comes with victory. Peace can be, well, boring.

 

And peace is hard. Because as the Sith have long known, peace is a lie.

 

Conflict is out in the open in time of war, and the enemy is known. Peace time has its own conflicts. But the solutions are less efficient. He can't call in an air strike on small time dissidents as easily as he could on the Resistance.  Sometimes he has to tolerate the opposition or even deal directly with them. It's annoying.

 

Where is Hux when he needs him?   Hux would have been good at this shit.

 

Kylo hasn’t slept in close to twenty hours. This is the same unrelenting pace he had kept up at the end of the war. Pushing his mind and body to the limit. But after the first two weeks of his Empire were spent obsessing over Snoke's efforts to revive Rey, Kylo felt that he had stumbled at the start. Had squandered some of his first hundred days. So with his wife alive, recovered and blissfully unaware, Kylo had thrown himself back into his Empire building. And it had been the perfect excuse to hide from the lonely grief and the crushing guilt he could not talk about.  

 

Once he had planned to build his Empire for the little boy Sheev who looked so much like him. And together they would realize Vader’s dream to rule the galaxy as father and son. Slowly, Kylo planned to bring along the small child with amazing telekinesis who he allowed to lurk in the recesses of his mind.   From a tender age, his son would witness it all to absorb what it meant to be a Sith. And with a 22,000 midichlorian count, a powerful Sith Sheev Ren might have become.

 

Like his grandfather before him, Kylo Ren had discovered an unexpected son. And like his grandfather, Kylo had grown to care for his newfound child. But that’s where the similarities end.

 

He does not regret his decision. But he regrets that he had to make it. If only he had seen that blaster bolt in time to block it. But like the shot from Chewbacca on the Starkiller, things sometimes get past him in the heat of battle. Especially in the aftermath of a major kill. For even a Sith is fallible.

 

And while sometimes Kylo has wondered whether he should instead have told Rey that Sheev was killed in the battle, he knows his wife would sense the lie in the Force. And every time the new Emperor finds himself turning away from the garden terrace at Bast to wipe at his eye, he comforts himself with the knowledge that Rey is blissfully unaware. That she doesn’t feel the pain that he does.

 

Steadfast survivor that she is, Kylo worries that the loss of Sheev would be the one thing that could break Rey. Not Jakku, not Skywalker, not his nagging mother, not Kylo's own abuse, could shake his scavenger wife’s resolve to endure. But losing her beloved Sheev would crush her. And that in turn would crush him, for Kylo depends so on his Rey. More now than ever.

 

His Master had been fatherly and unexpectedly compassionate about it all in the end. Darth Plagueis had wiped not just the boy from Rey's mind but Kylo's many transgressions. Creating a lovely, if all together false, history of their relationship. Corny, almost. For the creepy old Muun, it seems, is surprisingly old fashioned when it comes to women and sex.   Who knew the old Sith fancied himself such a ladies’ man?

 

But there was something very fitting about it all the same. Rey and his Master are the only two people in the universe who Kylo Ren deeply cares about.   And that his Master cared enough to do this had touched Kylo. Forever he shall be in the Muun's debt. For this and for so much else through the years.

 

Kylo strives very hard now never to discuss the past with Rey, for he is terrified that he will screw up and reveal something he shouldn't. He tells her that he doesn't want to talk about the war, and she respects his wishes. Rey thinks he is remorseful about all the lives lost when in fact he could care less. He's a Sith and he takes what he wants, regardless of the cost. But Kylo maintains the fiction for Rey's sake. He knows that she likes to think that he is privately conflicted about his actions. But he is a Sith, so the ends always justify the means.

 

Truly, he has no regrets other than that blaster bolt.

 

When he had thanked his Master for reviving Rey, Darth Plagueis had looked him in the eye and reminded him that he too had once lost a beloved wife and a son. That he understood the loss. And then cryptically he told his Apprentice that he hoped one day Kylo would understand how much that loss had hurt.   How if he could, his Master too would have made the hard choices to revive his family. But they are long past that now.  Rey is recovered and pregnant now. All is perfect on his homefront.

 

Kylo never did discover who had sabotaged the shuttle Rey and Sheev were on. Likely the culprit had escaped immediately after the deed was done. But a furious Kylo had slaughtered everyone on the _Finalizer_ maintenance crew who had recently worked on the shuttle. For one of them should have caught the error. Still, his bloodlust had not been abated. He had ordered all the prisoners taken on Skywalker's ship to be executed and so too all the remaining Resistance prisoners in the First Order's custody. Kylo would start his Second Empire with a fresh slate. The last remnants of the New Republic and its sympathizers would be swept away.

 

Now, almost two years into his reign, there is still so much left to be done. The easy, low hanging fruit type reforms have all been implemented. Now the harder, more complex work is to be done. And it has Kylo reflecting on things in ways he wouldn't have anticipated.

 

The worst part is that Kylo thinks he's beginning to understand his mother. And some days, he worries that he will become his mother.   That he will be mired in committees and meetings and his life will become all talk and no action. That like Leia Organa and her New Republic cronies, he too will fail in the end after a promising start.   Because while he and his mother might have shared little in common politically, the former Ben Solo has some of her idealism deep down. Kylo Ren just idealizes different goals.

 

He worries now that all villains begin as heroes. That the road to Hell truly is paved with good intentions. And he will be the bold First Order strongman leader that the galaxy needs and welcomes but then cools on quickly. And then the name Kylo Ren will be a footnote to history and a cautionary tale for anyone in the future who might attempt too much change, too fast.

 

His wife has become his most trusted unofficial policy advisor when it comes to the development of the Rim. For while many on his staff are from Rim Worlds, all are culled from the elite of the Imperial exiles. They are men (and a few women) educated in Coruscant and raised in privilege. They don't know the experience and the attitudes of the average Rim dweller. But Rey does. And he values her perspective.   She is his one woman focus group. His sounding board. Rey is helping him get it right.

 

But if his end goal is to please the historians, Kylo’s current goal is to please his Master. The old Sith looks over his shoulder more than ever. Darth Plagueis had given Kylo a long leash during the war.   His Master's role had been largely relegated to advise and consent during the final two-year push to victory. The old Sith had preferred to plan the war, rather than to execute it. So after Kylo had proven himself competent in strategy and in battle, the eternal Muun had been mostly hands off.  

 

Not so with governing.  

 

Kylo had expected the Muun to be deeply enmeshed in economic and commerce issues. Darth Plagueis has long understood the role of finance in war and the strategic advantages of the First Order's power base. For years, Snoke had busied himself using Hux and others as frontmen to negotiate a wide array of trade treaties among the First Order worlds. Helping to deeper enmesh the Order’s economic incentives for unity.

 

And now that Rey has passed on the information about his Master's long secret past, it all makes sense. The genius manipulator behind the late Republic Banking Clan had been a Sith. The man had funded everything from the Clone Wars’ Separatist droid factories to the Old Republic’s Clone Army. Money, it turns out, truly is the root of all evil. And for a century now, a large portion of the galaxy’s money has been controlled by a Sith.

 

But even with Kylo managing the military and his Master running the money side of things, there is still plenty to do.

 

Kylo spent years with Snoke analyzing what Palpatine had done right the first time. And that success wasn’t hard to replicate with history providing a template. But there are things that Palpatine had done wrong. And there, the solutions are not always self-evident. Because the galaxy is a complex place and sometimes the facts of the problem keep changing. And sometimes the problem itself keeps evolving. So Kylo sets some priorities and lets some problems fester. His Master complains at this. It is a point of some contention.

 

And his Master argues for a greater degree of self-determination. Give the people a Senate to make them happy, Snoke instructs his Apprentice. It is a familiar concept, well understood by ordinary citizens. It is a nod to the past and a pretense at democratic principles. Just give the Senate very little power, Snoke tells him.  And give them the difficult but less important matters to preside over. Predictably, they will fail. Then, if the Senate becomes problematic you will have the perfect excuse to disband them. And in the meantime, you will have an easy target to take the blame for failed government.

 

Kylo recognizes this as a classic Snoke solution—a setup with good optics and a pre-planned exit strategy. But Kylo is skeptical of democracy and loathe to relinquish any power just yet. And perhaps he is foolish, but he lacks the old Sith’s cynicism. For Kylo had not only spouted the First Order’s principles, he had believed them. So only once his Second Empire is fully up and running with some track record of success will Kylo agree to permit a Senate.

 

Snoke had raised an eyebrow at this resistance and patiently told him to reconsider. That merely announcing the intent to form a Senate will earn Kylo some goodwill. And that had been an astute insight, the Emperor concedes. But however much he needs his Master’s wise guidance, Kylo still chafes under it sometimes.

 

It can be hard to be an Apprentice.

 

But the Galactic Senate is a problem deferred, a topic for another day. Now, all Kylo can think of is Rey. Her arms around him, her face smiling up at him, her big pregnant belly poking him when they embrace. It’s not long now until her due date. How he relishes the thought of welcoming two more Skywalker Siths into history.

 

Kylo checks his datapad again. Fifteen minutes to Rey. He smiles. Almost home.


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: Non-consensual stuff in this chapter. Please stop reading if this offends you._ _This story is not for everyone._

 

First time motherhood is like a shock to the system. For when the twins are born, Rey is overwhelmed.   It is humbling. Where once she had been staunchly independent, Rey now finds herself unsure and tentative. Between the feedings and the crying and the months before life takes on any semblance of a schedule, she struggles. Even with round the clock shifts of nannies.

 

It is wonderful and awful at the same time.

 

For no matter how much help you have, Rey learns that motherhood is hard. Even with all the pairs of hands, there are some things only mommy can do. And some things mommy wants to do. How does any woman manage to do this on her own, Rey wonders.  Looking back later, it all seems like one big blur.

 

Kylo sticks his head in now and then but he flees to check his datapad the moment one of the boys starts to cry.   For while the Emperor may be fearless in combat, he retreats in terror from a dirty diaper.   None of this surprises or angers Rey. For she knows her Sith. He is not a patient man. And these days, his job is mostly to make decisions for others to carry out. The Emperor has a pretty big day job as it is.  So Rey will handle the domestic situation while Kylo rules the galaxy.

 

When Rey finally feels like she has things under control, she sets off one day with the six month old boys for a long overdue visit to the Supreme Leader.   The Empress is proud to show him the two littlest Sith. But she is spent, too. And when the helpers retreat with the boys and Rey gamely attempts to heal, she finds she is unable to focus. The months of interrupted sleep, the physical rigors of nursing and the frazzled nature of mothering newborns have taken their toll.

 

Rey feels she has failed. She gulps back tears. And she feels guilty. For she has been wrapped up with the children for months, leaving Snoke without the healing he needs. I'm sorry, Rey tells him as she succumbs to a full-fledged crying jag. She ought to be humiliated and embarrassed to be so emotionally out of control before the Supreme Leader himself.   But even after her long absence, such is their ease around one another that Rey ends up sitting in his lap as she babbles it all out.

 

Snoke listens patiently. He once had a wife with a newborn son, he reminds Rey. He recalls what it was like. Go home, he tells her, and take more time. Many years has he persisted like this. He can wait a few months longer.   Lifting her chin, he looks Rey in the eye and tells her that she will be worth the wait. That he will be ready when she is.  Because he can be patient for things worth waiting for.

 

And so a few months later with the boys weaned and more regular sleep, Rey returns.   This time alone. And then her weekly visits resume. She looks forward to them now, grateful for the adult company and for the chance to discuss something other than feeding schedules. For motherhood can be intensive in its monotony.

 

Where once Rey had avoided conversations about the Force with Kylo, she welcomes them now from his Master. Rey does more than just listen now.   She has questions. And they are not just about the magical mysterious Force. Sometimes they are about the Sith himself. But always Rey is careful not to ask anything she doesn't want to know. The Supreme Leader keeps many secrets and some things are best left unsaid and wondered about.   Rey doesn't need to know it all.

 

Her power seems to have grown during her absence. The time away has done her good, the Sith Master remarks.   His disfigured face is rapidly improving now, especially his left side. While Snoke will never look completely unharmed, his wounds are fully closed and the mighty forehead scar has faded and smoothed considerably. He’s still missing half his ear, but gone is the unsightly visage that might have made an onlooker avert their eyes. Even his skin has a more normal hue for a Muun. Less mummified porcelain white and more warm grey.  

 

And under all that damage, Snoke is a man in his prime middle years, and not the aged crone she once would have expected. More and more the handsome man from the long ago party pictures emerges from the gargoyle backdrop. It’s part metamorphosis and part revelation. All accomplished by Rey in the Force.

 

The Supreme Leader is well pleased. Kylo remarks on his Master’s improved appearance one night at dinner. Even through a hologram, he can see the amazing changes. Rey is proud.

 

She arrives for her next weekly visit and Snoke greets her with his customary bow. When he kisses her hand this time he does not let go. He tucks her arm into the crook of his elbow and leads her with him out of the audience chamber.   A trio of guards jump to follow but he waves them away. Snoke is even moving easier, Rey notes. His plodding, heavy gait is more purposeful and fluid. And seeing this makes her smile. Everything about the man seems reinvigorated of late.  And strangely hopeful.

 

Together they enter a series of chambers that are clearly personal.  Here the sterile grey and black military look of the Leader’s stronghold gives way to quiet luxury.   The décor is still dark, but furnished for comfort in handsome, deep hued fabrics. Sprinkled throughout are antiques and artwork. And now Rey's sense of unease is growing. But so is her curiosity. She is trying not to stare at the intriguing objets d’art and real paperbound books they pass. Everywhere there are curated remnants of the past. Kylo has told her that the Muun Sith is hundreds of years old, and this must be his collection of several lifetimes.

 

They come to a halt in a bedroom. In the center rests a huge bed, wide and long and hung with sumptuous curtains as if fit for an ancient king.  Standing beside it, the Sith reaches up to unbuckle the cowl of his robes and with a fluid movement he shrugs out and tosses them on the bed. Then he lifts off the dark t-shirt that he wears underneath.   And what he reveals causes Rey to suck in a sharp breath.

 

"Oh, Supreme Leader," she begins in hushed sympathy. Her eyes survey the damage. Then rise to meet his.

 

He smiles faintly. "My dear, in private here you must call me Plagueis."

 

"Yes, my lord,” Rey complies automatically. Yes is the answer to any request from this man. And this request is a sign of distinction. For Kylo’s Master has had many names, she knows. But he is first and foremost a Sith. And he overtly acknowledges this to very few people.

 

“May I?" she asks permission and he nods   And then Rey lifts a careful hand to the gaping hole in his chest. She can see the innards beneath, pulsing with his life's blood.  Rey is strongly reminded of the hole that had once marked his cheek. The cauterized hole that had looked like it had been burned by the stab of a lightsaber. Long ago, someone had stabbed this Sith through the heart and through the face. And no doubt thought him dead.

 

How Darth Plagueis stays alive through the Force remains a mystery to her. Because surely the concentration required just to exist for years under these circumstances must be all-consuming.   Yes, no one can kill Darth Plagueis. Rey is sure of this now. For she has seen at least two mortal wounds on this man and yet he lives. All from the power of the Dark Side and the interminable will of this crafty Sith.

 

She circles him, trailing a healing hand after her. Yes, the wound goes clear through his body and it looks to have pierced two of three of his Muun hearts.

 

"How you have suffered," Rey says softly. She understands. For Rey knows suffering. Not from physical wounds, but from isolation and starvation and thirst.

 

Part of her wonders if this is justice. This Sith has killed billions. But she can't help but feel compassion for the mastermind who hides away in his deformity, too proud and broken to subject himself to ridicule. How much of his power is devoted just to keeping himself alive, she wonders. And what kind of monster will he be if she truly can restore him?   Rey knows she enables Kylo in his Darkness.   That communing with her Light repairs the destructive effects of the Dark Side. But healing Snoke is something far different. It's more akin to unleashing the power he diverts to preserve himself.

 

"Lord Plagueis, you should have showed me this long ago."  Her reproof is gentle and caring. She knows him well enough to know he despises the weakness his injuries reveal.

 

"I would have, had I known it would be so easy to get you into my bedchamber," Snoke responds lightly. And that makes her smile a little.  But it’s hard to smile much in the face of this injury.

 

"Does it pain you, my lord?" She needs to know.

 

"Yes."

 

"Then I am coming back tomorrow."

 

After that, Rey begins to meet him directly in his bedchamber. Where there are no guards with prying eyes. No one to see the hidden vulnerability of the Supreme Leader. He awaits her in a princely dark robe trimmed with embroidery of strange red lettering. Beneath the robe he is bare to the waist. Ready for her healing touch. Rey wonders at the single vertical line of ancient runes that is tattooed down his chest starting at his right shoulder. The symbols match those that decorate his robe.

 

Strangely enough, while his left chest is ruined, his shoulders and arms are muscled and sinewy still. His is an impressive physique if you can look past his horrific wound. And how horrific it is. The chest wound is by far the most challenging injury Rey has ever healed. She understands why Snoke has saved it for last. It requires her utmost concentration. Rey cannot speak or even listen as she works. So they pass the time in mutual, comfortable silence.

 

Rey comes twice a week now and she heals for as long as her mental stamina allows. More often than not, she nods off to sleep on the shuttle ride back to Bast. One day, after a particularly disrupted night's sleep from the twins, Rey struggles to heal. After less than an hour, she collapses against Snoke, breathing heavily with sweat dripping from her brow. "Lord Plagueis, I cannot."

 

"Yes, I can see that it is taxing to be the Light for two Sith," he observes quietly.   "But soon you will no longer need to be." He rights her then leans in to kiss her chastely on the lips. "Thank you, Empress. That is enough for today."

 

Slowly and in fits and starts the chest wound closes. The Sith Master is whole again beneath his robes and increasingly vibrant now that he has more normal blood flow. It brings a smile to her lips to see Snoke’s quick stride with a new measure of swagger. Keeping up with the tall Muun in the hallway now requires the brisk skipping walk she employs to keep up with Kylo's stomping strides.

 

Even with all her success, Rey still continues her visits to refine her efforts. One day she meets him in his bedchamber as usual and this time his back is turned.   Here in his dimly lit lair, Darth Plagueis is the picture of a Sith.   So tall--easily topping Kylo--and in his customary black robe trimmed with embroidered red runes. Rey comes up behind and stops a respectful distance back, waiting to be acknowledged. Of course he knows that she has come. Snoke likely knew the moment her shuttle touched down.

 

"Welcome, Empress," he turns slowly and bows, as is his custom. Kylo’s Master is a perpetually formal man. He regards her steadily. Something is different about him today.

 

"Darth Plagueis," she dips her head in the expected obeisance. "I have come to serve you, Master of my Sith."

 

He inclines his head in a regal nod. "You have done well, my lady. I am nearly healed. Forevermore shall I be in your debt."

 

Rey smiles up at him, enjoying the praise.

 

"Empress, I have more to ask of you." And this too makes her smile. More, he wants more. Of course, because Sith always want more. This Sith especially.

 

"Come," he beckons her forward. She's standing close, and her head only reaches his chest. She's staring at the trim down the edge of his robe.  

 

"What are these symbols?" she asks. Rey has wondered for months.

 

"Kittat writing, the ancient language of the Sith. It is a protective spell. To keep me alive."

 

This makes her grin. For he has no need of such spell. Not anymore. "Nothing can kill you, my lord."

 

He chuckles at this. "For many years, death was all I feared. So I devoted myself to the study of life in the Force. That is how I learned to cheat death and to revive others."

 

"These match the symbols on your chest," she observes. Rey lifts a hand up and looks at him questioning. He nods permission and she slips her left hand under the lapel of his robe, pushing it back slightly to reveal the tattoo. She traces a finger down the dark line for a few inches but snatches it back as she sees him shudder at the touch.

 

"I'm sorry," Rey is quick with her apology.

 

"I am not," he replies gravely. He reaches for her hand and places it back on his chest, holding it there. "The ink is a Sith charm to protect my sword arm.   Never once have I been beaten with a sword in my hand, Empress. And I never shall be." His hand clasps around hers now. And his voice is a soft command. "Heal me, my lady. I still need you to heal me."

 

Rey nods and he releases her. She walks around behind him and reaches up to ease the velvet robe from his broad shoulders. He shrugs out of it and the fabric falls into her waiting hands. She sees the expanse of grey skin that is his thickly muscled back. It winds down in a slow slope to his waist and then flares again below. And--

 

Rey does a double take and then lowers her eyes.   She flushes. The Sith wears nothing today beneath his robe.

 

He turns now and Rey lifts her gaze. Attempting to look anywhere but there.

 

"Do not shy from me."   This too is a quiet command. He lifts a hand to her cheek. "Give me your Light, my lady. Give it to me as you give it to Lord Ren."

 

What? Rey steps back, wary now. If she understands him correctly, Darth Plagueis wants her to--

 

"Yes, my lady." He is in her head again and that saves her the embarrassment of saying the words out loud to her Supreme Leader.

 

"No." He shouldn't be asking this of her. And she can't do it. She won't do it.   Because Rey loves Kylo Ren and she is his wife. She would not betray her Sith to Skywalker, and she will not betray him now. "No, my lord." Rey denies him firmly as she takes a step back and drops his robe.

 

Snoke just takes a step forward. "Yes," he counters calmly. His snakes one long arm out to grasp her, pulling Rey into his arms. "Loyal are you to your Sith, my lady. I honor that. It does you credit."

 

Rey rears her head back and struggles. Even brings up her knee, but he anticipates her. Rey of Jakku fights dirty but she is no match for this man's strength and skill. "Kylo will kill you!" she snarls

 

"No, he will not." Again, he is calm.

 

"Then I will!"

 

And this only makes the Muun chuckle. “So fierce, always so fierce.”

 

He releases her and Rey leaps back away from the naked Sith and keeps retreating. Her mind is racing, thinking hard for a way out of this situation.

 

"Never in my life have I forced a woman, Lady Rey. I will not force you. Force will not give me your Light."  

 

She relaxes only a tiny bit at these words. For this man is Sith, and Sith can take what they want.   And the ends always justify their means.

 

"I mean you no dishonor, Empress.” Snoke looks grimly resigned now as he advances on her. He appears anything but the ardent lover. This is confusing. “I wish there were another way to strengthen myself. For in this, I betray a spouse too. But I will do what I must."

 

These words baffle Rey and "Oh," is all she can think to say.   Then Snoke reaches for her again and Rey shuts her eyes to block him out.

 

When she opens them, it is Kylo's arms she is standing in. His black hair that tickles her cheek, his pale human skin that meets with her own.

 

"Kylo?" Rey asks, confused. Is she dreaming? Where is Snoke?

 

"Were you daydreaming about my Master again? Rey, you are going to make me jealous."

 

Rey looks around in a panic and breaks from his embrace. She and Kylo are alone together at night in their bedroom at Bast.  Rey is bewildered. It’s as if she has skipped forward eight hours in time. "I'm confused."

 

"No," her husband smiles crookedly back at her. "You just had too much wine at dinner.”

 

Wine? Dinner? Rey doesn’t remember that. Now she is really confused. “Kylo, is it really you?” she asks tentatively.

 

He gives her an odd look, like what she’s asking is ridiculous. “Of course.”

“So I’m safe here?” She needs this reassurance. She needs him to say it aloud.

 

“Of course,” he frowns at her question. “Rey, you are safe. Everything is fine. Relax and come here,” Kylo coaxes. Then he whispers huskily in her ear, “You are wearing far too many clothes, my little drunk wife."

 

Mollified now, Rey laughs at this. She’s not much of a drinker and it always goes straight to her head. “You always think you’re going to get lucky when I drink.” But come to think of it, she doesn’t feel drunk at all. Not even buzzed.

 

Undeterred, Kylo reaches to unzip her dress. It's over her head and her bra is off and now he's pulling her down to the bed with him. On top of him.   Somehow he’s already undressed. Kylo works his fingers under the sides of the lace panties she still has on. "Show me your Light," he pants between kisses as he strips her bare. Usually, Kylo is impatient with the effort to undress her. Rey has more than one ripped pair of panties. But tonight, he is leisurely as he tugs them down.

 

"So slim," he breathes out as he strokes over her ass and thighs.   "We need to feed you, Empress." This remark puzzles her because, if anything Rey's figure is a bit rounded still from pregnancy.   Well, not exactly rounded. More like less lean. She will always be some version of the skinny scavenger.

 

Rey can feel him growing hard beneath her, and she rubs herself against him. Exhilarating in the feel of him. She will never get enough of her Kylo.   She's slick already for him and her motion is a slippery friction that makes him moan.

 

Rey's fingers splay across his hard, muscled chest.   She loves the pure powerful maleness of it beneath her touch.   "We need to get you a Sith tattoo like your Master," she tells him with a cheeky smile. "Right here.” She runs a finger down his right side. “Those are hot. Really hot, Kylo."  

 

"Only if you get the matching wife version," he laughs up at her.

 

"Yeah? It's a deal. What's the wifey tat?"

 

"It is an invocation for fidelity that encircles your upper thigh. To keep you chaste unto your Sith."

 

"How possessive," she snorts.

 

"Indeed, it is very Sith." He reaches up to stroke at her hair. “It is a powerful curse for any man who would dare breach your sanctity. Happy am I that you do not have one, my dear.”

 

Huh? But didn’t Kylo want her to get one too? She really must be drunk for that doesn’t make sense. But whatever. Rey dives down for a long kiss. "Only you, Kylo," Rey promises as she reaches to position him under her. She and Kylo have never been much for foreplay. A few kisses and then they get down to business. "Only ever you."

 

"Slowly, Rey. Easy now."

 

"Oh!" She cries out at the feel of him. So hard, so thick, so big. So . . . different. "Kylo, what--"

 

"It is because I want you so much, Rey." He reaches up to lace his hands in hers. "Ride me, Rey. Take your pleasure. Show me your Light."

 

And she does. Gingerly at first as her body adjusts to him. Childbirth is supposed to make things looser down there, not tighter. But maybe, Rey thinks, she has overdone it with the kegel exercises she read about on the holonet.

 

"Gods, Kylo, what has gotten into you?" She gasps as she slides up and down the length of him. The very long length of him. She is gripping him tightly with her inner muscles. And, oh, this feels amazing. He keeps hitting that spot high up and inside that drives her wild. “Oh, Gods!” she groans.

 

“There are no Gods, Rey. There is only the Force.” And now Kylo sounds like Snoke lecturing her.

 

Rey is in control and he just lays back with his eyes closed as she grinds away.   He must be tired, she thinks.   Kylo is never this passive in bed.

 

Kylo is groaning now, low and deep in his throat. "It has been s-s-s-so long," he hisses. Which makes no sense because they had fooled around a little in the shower this morning until Rey heard the twins crying and they were interrupted. But, yeah, before that it had been a week because Kylo had been away again.   Rey smiles, remembering how once they had counted the days away from one another.

 

And, oh, Rey keeps working that same spot. He is loving it too because his grip on her hands is crushing now and she can feel his body straining. Is he close? She hopes he is close.   "Kylo, I can't wait," she wails.

 

"Yessss," he moans. His next words are a slur. "Find your Light, Shan. Give me your--"

 

And Rey does. Her body spasms and her mind dissolves into the Force.   This is the burst of Light Side power that Kylo lives for. The brief moment of reconciliation that forgives, restores and encourages. It is absolution, healing and hope all in one. If only for a few brief moments. And her Sith must have committed unspeakable acts today, for he roars his acceptance like a dying man repenting with his final gasps.

 

"YES! Feel your power! Feel your Light!"

 

She has collapsed on his chest sated and spent but he is hard and throbbing still within her.   Kylo is not done yet. “More!” he demands. And that makes her smile. He’s such a Sith.

 

Kylo rolls her over and now he is on top. He takes his time as he strokes into her. Yes, her Emperor must be tired. For this is never his style. But it is nice. Very nice. Rey could get used to this. But it feels like something is wrong.

 

“Kylo, if you’re too tired for this—“

 

He shakes his head no. “I do not wish to hurt you. That is all.”

 

Really? That’s never been a concern before. Well, maybe right after the twins were born. But not now almost a year later. “Oh, Kylo. Shut up and fuck me. Fuck me like you mean it.” She knows he loves it when she talks dirty in bed.

 

“Are you certain, my dear?” he asks again with a deeper thrust.

 

Rey likes that. She grins up at him. “Hell, yes! Fuck me like the dirty Dark Sith you are.”

 

And this makes him laugh. “As you wish, Empress.”

 

Rey gets what she asks for. Kylo is fast, deep and hard and she loves it. Rey has her legs up and around his hips and the angle is just right and he is so deep tonight and Rey is climbing, climbing again. Panting his name and begging for more up until the moment when her eyes close and her world dissolves again into the Force. She must trigger him because with one last hard thrust and primal roar, Kylo too finds his release. And, wow, did she feel that.

 

Rey hears his voice above her whisper, “Shan, how I miss you. Oh, Shan, forgive me for this.”

 

What?? Rey’s eyes pop open now and she’s not in bed with Kylo at Bast Castle.   She’s naked in bed with his Master. The big Muun is on top of her. No, he’s in her! And, oh Gods, Rey is horrified.

Is this real?

 

“NO!” she screams, pushing at him and trying to wiggle away. But it’s too late. The deed is done and from the sopping mess that is her thighs and the bed under her, Rey had loved every moment of it. “NO! NO! NO!” she recoils. How did this happen?? She is utterly aghast. And confused, so confused.

 

He weighs more than twice what she does and, fierce as she is, Rey can’t get away. So in desperation, she throws up a hand and reaches for the Force. The Force never fails Rey when she needs it most. Except today, when it is easily anticipated and blocked by a Sith Master.

 

“So fierce, always so fierce.” He pulls back from her and instantly Rey rolls over and off the bed. She frantically grabs for her dress and cloak on the floor.   Clutching them to cover herself, Rey stares at Snoke in dismayed outrage.

 

“How could you??” she gasps. Then thinks again to holler, “How DARE you!”

 

“Oh, but my dear, a Sith dares anything.” Snoke is smug as he too leans to the floor to swipe up his robe.  “And you were most definitely worth it. Thank you, dear Empress, for sharing your Light.”

 

She watches as he settles the fabric about himself. Rey is totally uncertain what to do next. She wants to rage, she wants to cry, she wants to flee, she wants to kill him with her bare hands. How did this happen?

 

The Muun is looking pleased. Yes, she knows how this happened.   “You tricked me!” she accuses.

 

“Yes,” he freely admits. “My dear, I had no wish to hurt you or to fight you. I wanted you to enjoy yourself. So that I might enjoy your Light.”

 

Enjoy herself? Rey feels so violated. For months she has helped this man, spent hours healing him. And this is how he treats her? She might have expected this sort of treatment on Jakku where life was cheap and virtue even cheaper. But Rey is the wife of the Emperor—shouldn’t that protect her from this sort of thing?

 

“Kylo is going to kill you for this!” she spits out.

 

“No, he is not.”   Snoke is not the least bit concerned. “Tell him if you must, but it will not make things any different, Empress. You will still be back here in a few days’ time to give me your Light again. Just as you give it to Lord Ren.”

 

“No,” Rey shakes her head furiously. Like Hell she is coming back here. And there’s no way she’s doing that again with him. “Kylo will kill you!”

 

“No, he will not,” Snoke repeats. “And if you tell him, you will complicate matters. He might kill you first and ask questions later.   I should know for I have a slain an unfaithful wife in my time.   Tell him if you dare, Empress.   But know that so long as he doesn’t kill you, it will change nothing. I am a Sith Master and I can take whatever I want. Even from my Apprentice. Even you, my lady.”

 

“Then w-w-why? Tell me w-why,” Rey manages through her trembling lips. Why has he done this to her? And after all that she has done for him?

 

“Power,” Snoke tells her arrogantly as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Power is the answer to every question where a Sith is concerned. I need your Light to bolster my Darkness.”

 

At hearing his words, Rey bursts into tears. Into great big gulping, hopeless sobs. For having unwittingly betrayed her husband. And for feeling so callously abused by someone she trusted. Such a fool she is for having trusted a Sith. This will break Kylo’s heart if he learns of it. And it might get him killed by Snoke. And that’s the only thing Rey can think of that is worse than this very moment—the prospect of her husband being killed by his Master.

 

Her distress gets through to Snoke. Or maybe it is just expedient to smooth things over a bit. For the Muun tells her softly, “When you next come back, I will show you why I need more power. And then perhaps you will understand. Truly I mean you no dishonor.” The Sith raises her trembling hand to kiss it, but she snatches it back. It’s rude and disrespectful, but Rey doesn’t care. She’s had enough of this Muun’s fake gallantry. Snoke ignores her slight and gives her his customary farewell. “Thank you, my lady. Now and forever shall you belong to the Sith.” And with these words, Rey is dismissed.

 

Hastily, Rey pulls her dress over her head and jams her feet into her matching slippers.  She doesn’t bother with her bra and panties. She just wraps her heavy dark cloak around her like a shield.   She pulls up the hood to hide her tearstained face from prying eyes.  Then Rey dashes from Snoke’s chambers out into the hallway, past the guards, past the military officers who are stationed here, eventually breaking into a full run to the landing platform.  

 

"Lady! Lady!" The guards shout their concern and give chase, uncertain as to why the Empress is so alarmed. But she is fleet of foot and motivated for escape, so she outpaces them all up and into her waiting shuttle. She slams the door closed and screams at the startled pilot to take her home   And then she is alone and the tears start to flow again.

 

Rey is all cried out by the time she arrives back at Bast.   Milo awaits her as usual with his customary greeting, “Welcome home, Empress.” This time he does not ask about her visit. He does not ask about his old master. But Milo does inform her that Lord Ren will not be arriving back at Bast tonight as planned. Her husband’s trip home has been delayed another day, for there is urgent, late-breaking business for the Emperor to attend to in the Outer Rim.

 

It might be true. It might be pure coincidence. But Rey doubts it.


	4. Chapter 4

Rey is not a talker. Life alone for years on Jakku had ensured that. She’s never had a true confidante and at this point she doesn’t want one. Because Rey doesn't talk about her feelings.  She keeps it all inside, like she has for years.  

 

But oh how Rey dreads the next visit to Snoke. She can’t sleep at night and she is short tempered with everyone, even Milo. Twice she bursts into tears for no good reason.   Then at breakfast on the morning of the visit, one of the boys hurls his bowl of oatmeal across the room. It splatters everywhere.   Rey mutters softly under her breath as she stalks over to pick up the mess.

 

“The droid will get that,” Milo soothes as he walks in to find the Empress on her hands and knees scooping up porridge.

 

But crouched there, all Rey can think is that this is her job in life. To pick up the pieces and clean up the messes and shoulder the consequences of the Sith. From the youngest ones to the oldest Master. She scowls. It’s not her fault that Darth Sidious was a murdering asshole who nearly killed Snoke. And it’s not her fault that the Sith slaughtered all the Jedi healers that might have helped to heal him decades ago. But somehow it is Rey’s problem now. And Snoke’s solution is more than she can handle.  It’s like some ancient feudal droit du seigneur, only it’s her modern life.

 

“Fucking Sith!” she throws down the spoon she has collected and it clatters loudly.

 

“Rey?” From across the table, Kylo finally looks up from his datapad to raise an eyebrow. It’s not like his Empress to swear so casually. Especially in front of the children.  And not knowing the context, he thinks she’s swearing about the children. His little Sith.

 

“Fucking Sith!” Rey is crying now. Loud, gulping sobs. Milo is at her side first, helping to raise her to her feet. He nods over his shoulder to one of the nannies who is hovering in the doorway and she hurries in to take over feeding the twins.

 

“You’re going to see my Master today, aren’t you?” Kylo asks and she nods her reply. “Good. I think a break from the boys might help. They are a handful.” This is an understatement, but miserable Rey only hears it as criticism. Because even with all the help, she seems incapable of handling two small children. And that that is a big comedown for a girl who once handled everything in life on her own. “Maybe you should go see him more often.” Kylo thinks he’s being helpful. He has no idea what he is suggesting because Rey hasn’t told him. She doesn’t dare. “It would give you more alone time.” And that suggestion just makes her cry harder.

 

Kylo is puzzled. He stands there uncertain as to how to handle the situation.

 

So the castlekeeper inserts himself. “I will accompany her today.   My old Master has requested my presence,” Milo volunteers and Kylo nods his approval. “She’ll be alright, Lord Ren. Perhaps some additional visits, like you suggest.”

 

Kylo is frowning down at her now as she dries her tears. “Rey, you’re not pregnant again, are you?” he asks.

 

No, she’s not. And it’s too bad, Rey thinks. Because that’s probably the only way she could get herself out of this situation.  Rey can see no other excuse for avoiding today’s visit to Snoke. For without question, you come when the Supreme Leader summons you. And you do not say no to a Sith Master. Even when he’s dragging you to bed against your will.

 

Kylo's power comes with strings attached and every single one of them leads back to his Master. And each string ties Rey as neatly as it binds her Sith. It's a spider's web, a stealth snare, the trap that cannot be avoided. For if Kylo is his Master's creature, then so is Rey.

 

This is abuse, this is betrayal, this crosses a line, this is wrong. But none of those conventional moral objections will sway a Sith, Rey knows. For this is the pursuit of power, and power trumps all where Snoke is concerned.

 

So slowly Rey gathers her composure and squares her shoulders. There are things you want to do in life and things you have to do. And even an Empress has things she has to do.  But oh! She does not want to do this. But she doesn’t see a way out of it. Not without telling Kylo. And that would mean risking Kylo.

 

Hours later, Milo and a stone faced Rey arrive at the Supreme Leader’s stronghold.   Rey is trembling now and the old manservant pretends not to notice.   But he keeps giving her odd looks that betray his concern. Rey pulls up the hood of her long black cloak, seeking to shield her face from prying eyes. She can’t help but wonder if any of the guards and officers know the true reason for her visits.   Does anyone really believe that she is paying a mere social call on the Supreme Leader? Surely they have seen the changes in him and wondered about the cause.

 

Once inside, Milo beckons her to follow him and again she is heading down into the depths of the Sith’s lair.   She recognizes the route to his bedchamber and falters a moment, uncertain if she can continue. And that is when Snoke himself comes up from behind. And now Rey is really jumpy.

 

Snoke says nothing. He just nods to Milo and as a trio they continue in silence down a long, quiet hallway and through a series of security doors. They are deep into a very private, very restricted area. Rey has not yet acknowledged the Supreme Leader’s presence.   This leads Milo to raise a reproving eyebrow in her direction. But she ignores it. And Snoke does not comment. He flows stately and slow in their wake.  

 

Rey is very grateful for Milo’s presence. She doesn’t want to be alone with the Sith.

 

They reach the final door and this time there is no security panel. It is locked with the Force, Rey recognizes. She watches as Darth Plagueis pauses for a moment at the door before it opens. Then he steps aside for Milo and Rey to enter.

 

But he does not follow. Rey glances to him warily, but the Muun just shakes his head and averts his eyes. “I will wait outside,” he intones softly.

 

The room is large and dimly lit. Full of equipment that looks vaguely medical, including a shadowy tank of some kind. Milo crosses to an instrument panel to flip a switch. The lights in the tank come on and Rey sees her.

 

Now Rey knows why Snoke wanted to wait outside.

 

“This is Madame,” Milo says simply.

 

A horizontal tank of some kind is in the center of the room and within it floats a Muun woman.  She has been harmed, terribly harmed and someone has made an effort to repair the damage. For there are suture marks crisscrossing her arms and hands to fuse back together limbs once chopped in multiple places. She must have raised her arms to ward off her attacker, Rey thinks. But it had been in vain.

 

The woman’s face appears unmarked but for a slight burn across her cheek that clearly came from a lightsaber. One leg bears a similar mark as well. But the mortal wound is to her chest. Rey instantly recognizes the blow, for she had spent weeks repairing the matching mark on Snoke’s own chest.

 

Darth Sidious had stabbed them both through the heart.

 

In silence, Rey walks forward into the room and circles the tank. Seeing the woman’s face with eyes closed and mouth slightly open. Observing her long Muun body with ample female curves. There are no sharp angles on this woman, no jutting ribs or collarbones. Just smooth, rounded grey flesh everywhere but where she is injured.   She has pink toenail polish on, Rey sees.   And though it is a bit gruesome to inspect her severed and restitched hands, yes her fingernails are the matching color. It’s just what Rey would have expected from the fancy lady in the holonet pictures.

 

Snoke’s wife wears a short silvery lace negligee to give her modesty. It wafts and flutters slightly in the liquid. A soft, lifelike movement against the backdrop of her perfectly still body. Was this what she had been wearing when she was killed? Or had someone dressed her in this later on? The garment ripples slightly and Rey catches a peek at a Sith tattoo encircling her upper thigh. Darth Plagueis had marked his territory, it seems.

 

For decades, Rey realizes, this woman’s body has been kept in stasis. She is a ghostly Ophelia suspended in death and in time. Yet another doomed Sith wife from long ago whose story looms large over present events. Seeing her now, Rey much prefers Vader’s sad portrait memento of Padme to this morbid basement mausoleum. Why ever does Snoke keep her like this?

 

“Shan Damask,” Rey says her name aloud and it breaks the silence. She realizes that Milo has been waiting for her to speak.

 

“Yes,” he nods. “Madame was known to the world as Shan Damask then. She had been Shan Merga in her prior life with the Jedi.” The castlekeeper takes a deep breath and for a moment the ageless servant truly looks old. Old and full of secrets, full of regrets. “Such a pair they were, my Master and Madame,” Milo reminisces. “They were quite celebrated in their day. Madame was much admired. She was very friendly and loved by all who knew her.” And from the catch in Milo’s voice, Rey can tell that she was loved by Milo too.

 

“All except Sidious,” Rey whispers.

 

“Yes,” Milo concurs gravely. Then he sighs. “He never forgave the Master for showing her mercy and taking her back. Lord Sidious was a hard, hard man, Empress. In the years I served Emperor Palpatine, I only ever knew him to care about one person. Mostly, Lord Sidious took pleasure in harming and humiliating others. He liked to punish.” Milo frowns at some unspoken memory. Then he shakes his head as he adds, “At times, he could be horribly cruel to Lord Vader. Horribly cruel.”

 

“Was that because Darth Plagueis was Vader’s father in the Force?” she asks.

 

Milo shakes his head no. “Mostly it was because Lord Vader had been Jedi. Lord Sidious hated the Jedi.”

 

Rey nods. Snoke has told her this. “Because Sidious hated the Light.”

 

“Yes, he did,” Milo agrees. “But mostly it was because in those days, as some would put it, the Jedi stole children.” He does not elaborate.

 

“What happened to her son?” Rey wants to know. “Does the Leader have his body too?”

 

“No. Their son did not have the Force.” Milo tells Rey this as if it ought to explain everything. And perhaps it does, for would a Sith ever value a child who did not have the Force?  Sometimes even Kylo speaks of his boys like they are more his legacy then his sons. The expectations that will one day burden her boys are considerable, Rey knows. But while Darth Plagueis’ son had none of those prospects, he had died all the same.   Yet one more innocent bystander killed in the wake of the Sith.

 

She thinks of Snoke waiting outside in the hallway and suddenly Rey understands that this is the reason why Milo had made the eight-hour roundtrip journey today. To show her Lady Plagueis’ body. Here is the long trusted retainer who knows all of his Master's personal secrets. And not just who this woman is and how she died, but also the more closely guarded secret that she is the Supreme Leader's weakness.   For the man who coldly destroys billions on the Hosnian System is also a man who cannot bear to look upon the corpse of this one woman long gone.  Here is one tragedy among the billions he has caused. But she is his tragedy, and that makes it different.

 

Rey wonders again why this woman has not been laid to rest and left behind like the rest of Hego Damask’s life. Turning to Milo, she asks bluntly, “Why does he keep her like this?” Why, when he cannot even bear to look upon her?

 

The old retainer clears his throat.  When he speaks, he is choosing his words carefully. "Long ago when he took Madame back, Lord Plagueis promised her two things. That he would give her the revenge of the Sith against the Jedi.  And that together they would rule the galaxy." Milo looks Rey squarely in the eye.   "Lord Plagueis still plans to rule the galaxy with his wife at his side. When you have made him strong enough, Rey, he will try again to revive Madame in the Force."

 

“Oh.”

 

Rey turns back to the beautiful woman in repose in the liquid coffin. The might-have-been First Empress who lies in state locked away in a dark basement. Rey stares for a long moment. Thinking. Can Snoke really do this? Can he revive a woman dead almost eighty years and horribly mutilated? She thinks back to the Muun warning her not to attempt to avoid fate, and wonders why Snoke would dare to alter things this way. But he is Sith, and Sith dare anything. Even this apparently.

 

Her mind furiously rewinds back nearly a century of conflicts. She’s trying to make sense of all she remembers of Darth Plagueis the Wise. But despite all Rey knows of the machinations of the Dark Side, all she can think of is the holonet pictures she had poured over. Of the secret Sith Hego Damask looking relaxed and happy with his wife by his side.

 

Insight flashes up to Rey in the Force. Intuition suddenly crystal clear. Rey turns wide eyes on Milo.

 

"So she is the reason? She is why he formed the First Order, she is why he had Kylo kill Luke Skywalker?" This woman is the why behind the Starkiller and behind the massacres galaxy-wide from Chandrila to D'Qar. She is the reason children are stolen and brainwashed to be soldiers, why the Order hunted a map for a decade and a droid for a week, and why a scavenger girl from Jakku crossed paths one day with a Skywalker prince in the woods. Shan Damask is the sine qua non. The private rallying cry for the heartbroken Sith who stayed in the game long after he had lost. The raison d’etre for the First Order and Kylo’s Second Empire. The justification for Rey’s own rape at the hands of the Sith Master.

 

It's all clear now.   There is nothing Darth Plagueis won’t do for this woman. Nothing.

 

Rey looks back to Lady Plagueis in undisguised surprise.   And something like fearful respect.

 

"Darth Plagueis did it all for a woman?" she whispers. “For love?” For a promise to his dead wife left unfulfilled?

 

“It might be best if you spoke with him directly about this,” Milo suggests gently. Then the castlekeeper turns out the lights and ushers her back into the hallway.

 

Snoke is gone now. She’s not surprised.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Readers, if you’ve made it this far, you can tell I’m not pulling any punches. Please mind the prior warnings and story tags. I have no wish to offend anyone.  This story is not for everyone._

 

During the long march back to Snoke's quarters, Rey tries to formulate what to say. But she fails. You don't get to express outrage and anger at the Supreme Leader for his treatment of you.  And you don't get to demand answers of him. Kylo has told her this many times. You speak when spoken to and the only answer is yes. Always yes. But Rey will be damned if she is going to tell Snoke yes today. And so when she finds herself alone with the Sith Master, she says nothing.  She just stands there struggling to master her fear.

 

He is turned away from her, ostensibly looking at a painting with his hands clasped behind his back. He too says nothing.

 

The silence hangs heavy between them. And then Snoke starts to talk in that slowly unfolding way of his.

 

"I mastered resurrection years before Shan died. Milo was my first human success and it was quite by accident.   He had a heart attack suddenly and I happened to be there. On a whim, I attempted what I had experimented with on animals for years. And to my great surprise, it worked. I refined the technique over time but the process remains essentially the same. It is difficult and risky. There are no guarantees of success.”

 

He pauses and still Rey says nothing. So he resumes speaking.

 

“After Sidious attacked, I was too weak to revive Shan. I tried, of course, but I only weakened myself further. For many decades afterwards, keeping myself alive absorbed most of my power and concentration in the Force. My wounds were not capable of healing through conventional means without extensive biomechanics. And the Jedi healers I found could not be . . . persuaded to help. So Dark power kept me alive. I channeled the pain of my family’s loss into power and slowly rebuilt my abilities while I bided my time.”

 

The Sith turns now to face her. Rey quickly looks away.

 

“And then one day, my Apprentice found you. A girl awakened to the Light. Untrained but unspoiled. With no preconceptions of the Force and without the burdens of the Jedi ideology. It was I who had Lord Ren give you that first holochron cube to see what you could learn. Little did I know that healing would be your natural talent in the Force. That you would be a quick study at a skill that took others decades to master.”

 

Normally, Rey would blush at this rare praise from Snoke, but today she just bites her trembling lip. It is her healing skills that have brought her to this place, after all.

 

“Long have I waited for one such as you, Empress. And I was patient for you, wanting your power to grow naturally. The Force should not be rushed. If you push too soon for its mastery, you risk stunting your power. The Jedi did that time and again with their little padawans.  Always they feared the loss of control over their Force-users, so the Jedi would indoctrinate them nearly from birth. That is counterproductive. It is best to wait. Skywalker himself didn’t train until he was nearly a man grown. And you were about his age then when you were Awakened.”

 

“I needed you to heal me. So that I would no longer have to divert a large portion of my power just to sustain my existence. This was essential. Because I will need every bit of my power to bring back my wife. And when I do revive her, I do not want my Shan to shrink from my deformities.”

 

Rey shifts her stance but still she looks away. This man has always intimidated her a little. But now he frightens her too. And Rey doesn’t know where he is headed with this speech.

 

“The overriding secret of the Force is balance.” Snoke crosses his arms and stares down at her.   The Sith has that intense look now that he gets when he speaks of the Force. Kylo gets that same look sometimes. “In all things, balance is the answer. We live in a marvelously complex universe but the simplest truths lie beneath it all.  Balance, my dear. Always balance. Even in a resurrection.”

 

“So what I bring back from the netherworld of the Force, I must yield up. Power regained must roughly balance power sacrificed.   And therein lies the dilemma. My Shan was a Jedi before she was stripped of her ability to connect to the Force, and Force-users cannot be easily brought back to the living. There is a cost to regaining their lives and their abilities. In the past, I might have sacrificed a Force-user to regain a Force-user, but they are in short supply these days.”

 

He moves to stand directly in front of Rey, looking down at her steadily. Warily she meets his eyes. Snoke’s next words bring a chill to Rey’s heart. "I would prefer not to sacrifice one of your children in order to bring back my wife."

 

Rey sucks in a loud breath at this implicit threat. Her eyes widen and she steps back as her hand reaches to cover her mouth in dismay. The Sith does not acknowledge this reaction. He just keeps talking.

 

"I do not know whether my Shan will be able to control the Force, if she even has it when she awakes. It would seem a waste to lose a little Sith and realize no gain in return. And that is why I need to bolster my power to its maximum potential. To restore myself to what I was in my prime. Before the mortal wounds and the decades of Darkness without the comfort of the Light.   I need a surfeit of power, Empress, so that I may relinquish some of it to regain my wife. This is why I ask for your help in this special way.  This is why I ask you to share your Light with me the way you share it with Lord Ren."

 

He reaches for her face now and Rey can’t help it, she flinches. Then turns her head from his touch. She feels a tear leak out to meander down her cheek. Snoke frowns at this.

 

"I have waited decades for Shan,” he tells her. “I am done waiting. One way or another, I shall revive her. And once she is returned to us, you will help to heal her wounds the way you have healed me."

 

Yes, Rey knew this was coming. Now that she has seen Snoke’s wife, Rey knows that her skills are needed.

 

And now Snoke mentions the elephant in the room. "I meant you no dishonor during our last meeting. But this is necessary and it must be done.” The Sith sounds almost kindly now. “And I think you would prefer it this way.   Neither of us would wish for the alternative. For I too value your little Ren."

 

"If I do this--" Rey begins haltingly. Hating herself for even saying the words, but wanting desperately to save her children.

 

"You will do this," he corrects firmly.   But again, his voice softens. "My lady, I know what it is that I ask of you. I honor your loyalty to Lord Ren and I shall reward you for your assistance."

 

And his speaking of using her body for some sort of quid pro quo provokes Rey’s strong reaction. For this is not mere assistance. No matter what his euphemism, it is still adultery committed against her will and against her Sith husband who she loves.   "He will find out! He will kill you!" Rey warns.

 

"No, he will not."

 

Snoke’s calm confidence is irritating. Rey lashes out, "And he will kill me too!"

 

"I will not let that happen, Empress."

 

Of course not, she scowls to herself. Because if Kylo kills her, she won’t be around to heal his wife.

 

"This arrangement is temporary, my dear.   Only until Shan awakes and recovers. I intend to be the faithful husband to my wife that I was during her lifetime. You need not be concerned about that."

 

“But—but--,” Rey sputters unhappily. She wants to shout at him that she loves Kylo and she will not consciously betray him. That it is unfair of him to ask her to do this. And to threaten her children as leverage.

 

“I know. Your devotion to your family is admirable.” Snoke is in her head again. She should have guessed. "But together, we are a family, Rey. You, Lord Ren, your little Sith, my Shan and I. And family helps family. Only you can do this. So it is your duty to do it."

 

Rey answers honestly and raggedly, “I don’t know if I can.”

 

“But you will,” decrees the Sith. “You are a survivor, my dear, fierce in all things. You resisted Skywalker. You can do this. For I promise you,” he flashes her a crooked smile, “what I do to you won’t be torture.” Then he raises his hand in the gesture she remembers from last time.

 

“Wait!” Rey stops him. She knows what’s coming next. “Wait! Don’t—please!” If he will not allow Rey to control her own body, she at least wants to be able to control her mind. She wants never again to be fooled into thinking she’s in bed with Kylo. For she never wants to be uncertain again about the man she is with.   That thought had plagued her as she lay in bed next to her husband the last three nights. Wondering if she rolled over to kiss him, would it truly be him.  Or Snoke in disguise.

 

“It will make things easier for you, my dear.”

 

No, no it won’t. Not in the long run. “Please,” Rey implores him, stepping closer. “Do not confuse me. Let me know what it is that we do together.”

 

The eternal Muun considers a long moment.

 

“Please, Darth Plagueis,” Rey uses the name he prefers her to use in private. “I promise that I will do my best to . . . show you my Light.” These words come out awkwardly but Rey doesn’t want to describe what will truly take place. If he is going to make her do this, please can he let her do it her own way?

 

A slow smile creeps across the Sith’s face. “You want to know that it is me who you are with?”

 

She has stroked his ego, she realizes. Rey nods fervently.

 

Now his smile broadens still more. And he has a wicked look to him. “Then so be it, Empress.” He reaches to pull her closer to him, burying his giant hands in her loose hair, tugging it so she lifts her face up to him. “Feel my power,” he invites as his mouth comes down on hers.

 

Rey gasps aloud. Not from the force of his kiss, but from the feel of this power. The Supreme Leader cloaks himself in the Force and like Kylo he projects an ordinary imprint of a non-Force sensitive man. Snoke has told her that this is from long habit. Because for years the Sith hid in the open and then for years more he hid from Sidious and then from Skywalker. And now that there is no one left to hide from, the Sith hides still. Hiding in the Force is the first lesson of being a Sith, Kylo had once told Rey. And it is a lesson that is second nature for this Sith Master after centuries of practice.

 

But now Darth Plagueis reveals to her his true Dark power. And his Force imprint is awesome in scope. The sheer magnitude of the projection of his mind into the Force leaves Rey dismayed.  Snoke’s mind seems to fill the room and to reach deeply into her own mind. As if knowing her innermost thoughts and fears is effortless for him. As if all that Rey is were laid bare before him for a lazy perusal.

 

It is jaw dropping and Rey staggers slightly in his arms. It is hard to withstand the mental onslaught that is this Sith.

 

For, oh! the feel of his Darkness. It’s a combination of extremes. Like a chill so cold that it burns the skin. Like a heat so hot that it numbs the senses. It’s a whisper so loud you can hear it across a room. It’s the soft caress that leaves behind a bruise. This is the furthest thing from the zen calm she remembers from Luke Skywalker. Snoke’s mind is a roiling, boiling mix of competing passions. It’s all seven deadly sins rolled into one, focused and amplified ten-fold. Overwhelming in its intensity and its ambit.

 

And, Gods help her, it beckons to her. Rey does not even want to resist.

 

_Give yourself to the Dark Side, Empress._ Images of her in Snoke’s arms three days ago flash up to her mind.  Rey sees herself, head thrown back, mouth open and eyes shut as she grinds away on him.   It’s shocking to see how wanton she appears in another man’s arms.   _Yesss. Open your legs and submit to a Sith._ His lips are on hers still, but now Rey feels the phantom sensation of his lips on her neck too. Leisurely dropping wet, open mouthed kisses on the way down to bite her nipple. It isn’t real, Rey knows, but she shudders all the same.   _Show me the power of your pleasure. Let me feel your Force._ And now the memories of him thrusting into her. The delight of his flesh is so different from Kylo and so satisfying. She’s never been with another man before. _Let me claim your Light for Darkness. Be my balance._ She’s reliving the ultimate moment now. The Force flaring to blind her mind’s eye as her body convulses around him throbbing deep within. She sees herself tangled in his arms, covered by his body that is so much larger than hers. And just for a moment, her skin is grey, her body is soft and she is someone else.

 

Because he’s thinking of her and not Rey.

 

Rey breaks the kiss, rearing back and panting heavily. He steadies her for she is weaving on her feet. She looks up to him and—

 

“Your eyes!” They are yellow. Feral and menacing like a wild alpha predator.

 

He chuckles at her reaction. “They are Sith eyes, my dear. The mark of man fully mature in the Dark Side. Give Lord Ren a few more years and he shall have them too.” Then Snoke blinks and the yellow eyes are gone. “Come,” he says as he takes her hand and leads her back into his bedchamber.

 

And that is how it begins. Every few days now, Rey is in Snoke’s bed.

 

The worst part is that he makes her like it.   Rey has no idea what, if anything, the Sith Master has been doing for female company for the past eighty odd years. But she wouldn't be surprised to learn that Snoke had been studying up on ways to please a woman. For the man is relentless in his slow paced lovemaking. He begins by undressing her, unwrapping her like she is a present. Taking his time as he kneels to slide her panties down to her ankles. Then he leisurely licks and kisses his way up the inside of her leg. Her traitorous body is dripping wet for him by the time he makes it up to nip at her inner thigh.

 

And, oh, that mouth! Maker, what this Sith can do with his tongue. Always, he starts like this, licking and sucking her to a shuddering, quivering ecstasy before he moves on to other things. He must know that she needs to relax fully before she is ready for him. His Muun body is so large that things cannot be rushed or they will hurt. Maybe he has learned this from those four Twi'lek wives of his, or perhaps it's obvious from the sheer size and girth of him.   But the Sith never rushes. For Darth Plagueis, in this as in everything, has all the time in the world.

 

He buries his face in her hair, losing his spindly fingers deep in her tresses as he slowly, repeatedly strokes into her. This is not the fevered race to climax that she and Kylo perform regularly. This is a lovers' pas de deux with the Sith Master whispering Kittat love poetry in her ear.   The words are sweet mixed with vulgar as the Muun’s slow voice talks dirty to her in Sith.

 

And, Gods help her, part of Rey revels in it.

 

There are no twin babies whose needs will interrupt them. The door to his chambers is locked with the Force. There are no distractions and no disruptions as her visits stretch to two hours or more.   Again and again, Darth Plagueis brings her to mind blowing oblivion. That’s when the possessive, domineering Sith likes her to say his name, wants her to proclaim her unwanted lover out loud in the moment. Then he is exhilarated and empowered. Washed free with the cleansing power of the Light. But Rey is left feeling abused and exhausted. Weary in mind and in body. Soiled.

 

And guilty. Oh, so guilty.

 

Rey cries herself to sleep on the shuttle ride home. And if that evening, Kylo wants to touch her, she brushes him off. Rey can only take so much physical contact. And between two babies who like to be held and a visit with the Sith Master, she just needs space. Once or twice she catches a hurt look in Kylo's dark eyes and it pains her. Her Sith needs her too. But on days like this, there is not enough Rey to go around.

 

The coerced affair is constantly on her mind, creeping into Rey’s thoughts at the oddest of moments. One night she is in bed with Kylo sucking him off and she can’t help but compare him physically to Snoke.   For a moment, Rey could swear she hears the Muun Sith chuckle in her mind. A few days later she and Kylo are back in bed and Kylo is doing his usual thing. But now it feels like he is rushing her and she wishes he would just slow down. But he just goes on to jackhammer her like usual and Rey rolls her eyes. And again, she swears she hears the Muun Sith laugh. It worries her. Because Kylo had been everything she had ever wanted in a lover before Snoke. Rey had never had any other experience and she hadn’t wanted any.  

 

It is a strange and confusing thing to be in bed with a man who pretends you are his dead wife even as you sort of pretend he is your husband. Each wishing for a different lover and a different circumstance. Rey might be an Empress married to the fearsome and commanding Lord Ren, but she is beholden to his Master every bit as much as he is. And Darth Plagueis might be the ultimate power in the universe but still it is not enough. For his tragic sleeping beauty awaits him in a bacta tank many floor below.

 

Rey comes to understand that her visits truly are about her power. A means for this very Dark Sith to bask for a few moments in the forgiving, restorative Light. Snoke doesn't even fully undress most of the time, his velvet robe resting open like a mantle about his broad shoulders. Only once does the Sith fully gratify himself each time they are together. And when he does, inevitably it is her name that slips from his lips, never Rey's.   Rey comes to understand this as a signal that they are done for the day.   Then she will dress and leave and he will sit alone to brood.

 

She hates Snoke for this. For threatening her children. For using her body. For betraying her trust. Yes, she hates him. Sort of. For it is hard to hate a man who touches her so reverently and who does it all for the love of another woman. And so while most of Rey is outraged, some small part of her is sympathetic. As bizarre as it sounds, more than anything, she feels sorry for Snoke. And sorry for herself. Sorry too for Kylo and for Shan, who might not know but who are hurt all the same. For the culpability will always be there even if the knowledge isn’t.   For what Kylo doesn’t know would still hurt him. It would hurt him terribly.

 

When Rey gets home to Bast, she hugs her little boys tighter and tells them that she would do anything to keep them safe. And it’s true.

 

Snoke likes her best from behind, straddling his kneeling self as she faces away. One grey skinned hand holds her about the waist. The other hand twists in her hair to pull her head back for an open mouthed kiss. Or sometimes snakes around to finger her from the front. They take turns like this. Rey grinds away then Snoke pumps his hips into her. And then when she has found her Light, he simply walks her forward on all fours to keep going.   The man is as relentless in this as in all other things. For once she finds her Light, the Sith just changes positions and it begins anew.

 

And that is how Kylo finds them as he walks in. Rey's head is bent forward, her hair hanging down, as Snoke grunts and thrusts emphatically into her from behind. He has his hands on her hips, holding her firmly for she is already melting into the Force yet again. She never lasts long on all fours, even with Kylo. The Empress is gasping out his Sith name as requested and Darth Plagueis smiles wryly at his success yet again. It's the fifth time today, but who's counting.

 

Wrapped up in the moment are they until it all ends suddenly with the dual snap and buzz of a crossguard saber igniting.

 

Rey lifts her head at the sound and gasps aloud in true horror.

 

"Kylo!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last set up chapter. Updates will slow now.


	6. Chapter 6

Looking back in hindsight, there were many clues he had missed along the way.

 

Some of the clues were small, subtle things. Like the time Kylo was unexpectedly home when Rey arrived back and he saw her brush past the pair of nannies waiting with the crying twins and head to their private quarters for a long shower. Or the time he had heard Rey say his Master's name in her sleep. She had used his formal Sith name and title, when never before had Rey referred to him as anything other than the Supreme Leader Snoke or his Master. Then once Rey had laughed in bed as she trailed her fingers down his chest and told Kylo that he needed a Sith tattoo like his Master. He hadn't known what she had been talking about at the time.

 

And some of the clues were more obvious, had he been paying closer attention and been less wrapped up in his Empire. For his wife had become increasingly vague when asked about the goings on at her visits. Before she had been eager to share her news. Kylo hadn't thought anything of it for Rey had become very preoccupied lately with their sons. She hates to be away from them, he knows. And on the several occasions he had remarked about his Master’s rejuvenation, Rey had not met his eyes. Kylo had meant these comments as praise, for the change in the old Muun Master he has known for twenty years is remarkable. And all thanks to Rey’s Force healing. Or so he had thought.

 

But now as he stares down at her writhing and panting out his Master’s name in pleasure, it all comes together. Kylo’s sword leaps into his hand to ignite. It blazes bright, ragged and lethal like his instant rage.

 

He is betrayed.

 

Betrayed by his Master, the mentor who he has admired and emulated, the Sith mastermind who Kylo has spent years killing for, the man who calls him son and who he regards like a father.

 

Betrayed by his wife, the mother of his little Sith, the Light in his world and the woman he had once sacrificed his future to save.

 

For a long moment, Kylo cannot believe it is true. He stands there, with his sword in his hand and his heart in his throat. Wanting to disbelieve what he knows is true.

 

It’s as if he can feel his heart breaking.

 

There was a time when he had feared this very thing. But under the circumstances, Kylo had reconciled himself to it in order to save his family. So, with a heavy dreading heart, he had sent his wife to his Master for safekeeping and then set out to kill his uncle.   Everything had gone so terribly wrong that day and Rey had never reached her sanctuary alive.  But they were long past all of that risk, foolishly Kylo had assumed. He had never believed that his wily old Sith Master would dare to seduce his wife while he himself was alive. But it seems that the treachery of Darth Plagueis is not to be underestimated.  

 

Time stands still as Kylo stares into his wife’s eyes. At the sound of his blade igniting she had given a small frightened gasp and looked up to lock eyes with him. They are still transfixed by one another when his Master calmly strokes her cheek and steals her consciousness. Rey slumps instantly forward and Snoke catches her slightly to break her face first fall onto the bed. Then Kylo can't look away as his Master pulls his giant erect Muun dick out of his wife with a disgusting wet slopping sound.

 

Kylo’s mouth sets in a grim line. Darth Sidious had the right of it when he had tried to kill this Muun fucker decades ago.   Now Kylo Ren is going to finish what his grandfather’s master had started.

 

Rey is collapsed face down naked on the bed with her dusky curls obscuring her face. She’s totally defenseless now if he were to strike. And, yes, he is tempted.

 

But he stops himself with his own recriminations. For the very first time Kylo had dragged Rey to be presented to his Master, he had drilled four rules into her beforehand. Do not speak unless asked a question, always tell the truth, show utmost respect, do not under any circumstances resist him. Gods help her, his wife apparently had done as she was told. And this, then, was the result. He had unwittingly offered her up for seduction.

 

Yes, Kylo is going to be the one to kill Darth fucking Plagueis or he is going to die trying.

 

Snoke reaches out a hand and a saber hilt flies into it from across the room. But all Kylo sees is the flash of Kittat rune tattoos stretching from the Muun's right shoulder down to his groin. What the fuck had Rey been healing that she had seen that? No, he doesn't want to know. Kylo can't bear to learn the details behind their trysts.

 

“You have no right!” Kylo spits out these words as he advances.

 

The Muun leaps from the bed in a surprisingly agile move. He shrugs forward the open robe he is wearing and he is mostly covered. “I have every right to her!” the eternal Sith snarls back as he too advances. Snoke ignites his own matching sword now and they circle one another in the open space of the bedroom.

 

Kylo blinks for a moment, trying to focus. Never once has he known his Master to wield a sword.   He has no idea what sort of opponent he is facing. Quickly, he begins sizing up his foe. His reach and his height, Kylo knows. But his speed and his fighting style are a mystery. Plus, the man he faces is not decrepit and injured. The Muun looks loose, flexible and decades more youthful. And even with his weapon held down and to the side, the ancient Sith looks very, very formidable.

 

“Surprised are you? You shouldn’t be!” His Master’s voice is dripping with disdain. “Young fool! Despite all I have taught you, still you cannot outsmart me.”

 

“You will die for this, Master,” Kylo vows coldly.

 

But the old Sith scoffs. “Why do you think I allowed you to sacrifice your son for her?   That boy was powerful, far more powerful than you, Apprentice. He might have eclipsed us both in time. But you, his own father, begged me to murder him and I complied.   In your grief, did you never stop to think why?”

 

But Kylo does not want to be lectured to.   He is done taking lessons from this man. “You will not take her from me!” he growls, twirling his sword in anticipation of the kill. Kylo is a Sith of old and he is a man of action, not words. He doesn’t want to talk, he wants to fight.

 

But the prosey old Muun can’t resist speaking to him like he’s still a teenaged padawan. “Always, there must be a reason. And for a Sith the reason is power. You know this. I have drilled it into you since you were fifteen years old!” Snoke is practically gloating as he reveals his methods. Always, Kylo thinks, this fucker has preferred to plot than to fight. “I revived her to indulge you my victorious Apprentice and to give me back the Light that can heal. I needed her to heal me and to restore my full power. So that no longer would I be handicapped siphoning off my abilities just to keep myself alive. Vader never reached his full potential in the Force because of his injuries, and neither would I without her!”

 

“She is mine!” Kylo roars this.

 

But the Sith disagrees. “No, Kylo Ren. She was born again through me and she is mine. I let you keep her as wife and I take only a few hours of her time a week. Be grateful for that, Apprentice. Be very grateful.”

 

“She is my wife! Rey is mine!” again Kylo snarls, pacing back and forth now and gesturing with his weapon. The gall of this Muun to assert that he has a superior claim to his own wife.

 

Darth Plagueis stands his ground, weapon held down. He is ready to respond but not overtly threatening. Instead, he wields words to wound. “Everything you have and everything you are comes from me. Especially her. Never forget that, Apprentice.” Yes, the fucking Muun is attempting to reason with him. Apparently, his Master thinks this betrayal is some sort of teachable moment. “It is temporary,” Snoke tells him. “You will get your wife back once I will revive my Shan.”

 

What? Who? Kylo isn’t following this bullshit and he doesn’t care to.

 

“My wife who Sidious butchered so cruelly. I have kept her all these years waiting for the day that I would be strong enough to revive her.” The Muun Sith has a fanatical look to him now. And it’s so at odds with the careful, calculating man Kylo has known for twenty years. Never has he seen this side to his Master. “Decades have I waited for my Shan! It was never going to be possible, but I kept her body and I hoped anyway. And then your lady came along and it was possible. Kylo Ren, I have accomplished all I have ever set out to achieve except saving her. It the one task left to finish, and nothing will stand in my way!” Gone are the low snarly tones he recognizes from the Sith. Darth Plagueis sounds almost desperate.  

 

And that change alone penetrates through to Kylo. He thinks for a moment. “You are fucking my wife so you can resurrect your own?”

 

“Yes. I promised my Shan we would rule the galaxy together. And now, with the help of your Empress, we shall. I will sacrifice my own power to awaken my wife and Rey will help to heal her.” The Muun is eerily smiling in anticipation as he speaks of his long deferred dream. He looks obsessive and very Sith. “You will like her. My Shan is delightful. Your lady will adore her. And Shan is a fully trained Jedi Knight to study and teach Vader's holochrons.”

 

Kylo has heard enough. “I'm going to kill you and you can meet your old lady in the Force!” He steps forward to initiate contact, but his Master simply waves a hand and Kylo is thrown hard into the wall behind him.

 

“My power has more than doubled in the last few months. You cannot kill me, Kylo Ren. Do not try it. I have no wish to kill you, Apprentice.”

 

Kylo answers with another charge and again he is sent flying back into the wall. And he is held there by the Force.

 

The Muun raises one eyebrow. “Careful, Lord Ren, because with the wave of my hand I can restore your wife's memory and she will know the truth. All of it. And then you will lose her forever.”

 

Kylo’s eyes narrow.   And frozen in the Force, he has no choice but to listen to his Master vent his frustration.

 

“Yes . . . she will remember her son you sired on her from a vicious rape. She will remember the slave collar you put on her like she was chattel. She will remember you beating her in public when she returned to you of her own accord.   She will remember it all. Every harsh word, every cruel touch. Yes . . . I saw it all in her mind.” The Muun shakes his head in disdain at his Apprentice. “You are a hard man where women are concerned, Kylo Ren. Even that sadist Sidious never treated his Underworld trash wife the way you have yours. And to think,” he sneers, “You were born a true prince.”  

 

“Young fool that you were, you did not recognize what you had found for us. Did not realize that the untrained girl who could resist you in interrogation was the rarest gift in disguise.   And like Sidious, your first instinct was to harm her and to crush the Light. Your grandfather spent years searching for one such as she. Vader would have revered your lady and her power. For healers were rare, even before the Purge.”

 

“Bring her to me, was what I asked. I might have extracted the map gently from her mind without her knowing. So easy it might have been to woo the starved, abandoned scavenger to our cause. All we would have needed to do was to feed her! But it was too late. Already you had raped her and made her an enemy before she escaped.”

 

The Muun’s lip curls in derision. “Such a brute you are, Lord Ren. You have lived only in a time of war, and violence is your first and only solution to conflicts. It is the last solution. For it is rarely the most efficient or effective method in the long term. Listen well to your Master, boy, for hundreds of years have I lived. I am the ultimate power in the universe because I know when to plot rather than to fight.” He fixes Kylo with a pointed glare. “Now is not a time for you to fight. You cannot win and when you lose, you will lose it all. Think, Apprentice.”

 

With a wave of his Master’s hand, Kylo is released to make his choice. But the Muun is not finished cataloging his shortcomings where Rey is concerned.

 

“Your outrage is a bit misplaced, Apprentice. Do not forget that it was I who gave your wife to you. I insisted that you keep her even when you wanted to send her to a work camp and make your little prodigy son a stormtrooper.   I was the one who forbade you to harm our misguided Resistance girl. I was the one who had Milo teach her to become your Empress. All because I knew in time she would become a very great asset to us. Little did I know that she would turn out to be a healer as well.”

 

“She is mine!”

 

“What a possessive Sith you are. Mine, mine, mine. Like a child's refrain. See the larger picture, Apprentice. See how I will use her power to restore my wife. Light used in the service of Darkness, as it should be. My Shan is a powerful visionary. She will only increase the glory of the Sith.   In time, you shall see.”

 

Again Kylo prepares to attack. “All I see is you fucking my wife.”

 

“I needed her Light. Now do not raise your sword to me, Apprentice. I fought trained Jedi Masters in my time and I taught you everything you know. You cannot win. Now disengage!”

 

Kylo is not cowed. “Don't forget that I fought Skywalker,” he boasts. “The Jedi you feared.”

 

But his Master presses his advantage. He raises one hand in the direction of the unconscious Rey. “If you fight me now, I will restore her memory. If you lose, you will die. And if you win, you will lose her anyway. And your boy’s death will be in vain. Kylo Ren, you killed your own son for her. Think about that.”

 

Yes, Kylo needs no reminding of this. His mouth is a grim line as he remembers that fateful day. “You tried to talk me out of it . . . “

 

“Yes, to be certain that you were certain. It was not the decision that I would have made independently, but when you presented me with the opportunity and begged, I took it.” The Muun gives him a frustrated look. “Put away your weapon. I have no wish for conflict between us. I don't need another murdering Apprentice. One was enough.”

 

Kylo scowls. The gall of his Master to claim he has no wish for conflict. Everything about this betrayal invites conflict.

 

But Snoke must sense his unguarded thoughts. “Know that this is not personal. I regret that I have to use your lady so. I respect and admire your Empress. But in times such as these when the ranks of the Light are lean, there is no alternative. Be happy that I am merely using her Light and not sacrificing her life.” He shoots Kylo a hard look. “You would do the same if our roles were reversed. Do not pretend otherwise.”

 

And Kylo resents being lumped in the same category as this treacherous Muun. “No, I would not! I might have killed you. But I would never have betrayed you by fucking your wife!”

 

But his Master scoffs, “Of course, you would betray me. You betrayed your own son for that woman. You would certainly betray me for her.” The Muun shrugs slightly. “We betray. We are Sith.” And that explains it all away, apparently.

 

His Master gestures again in Rey’s direction. “Decide. Now.”

 

Kylo’s eyes follow the Muun’s spindly fingers to find his wife. Rey is sprawled naked and face down.   His face softens at the sight of her. None of this would hurt so much if Rey didn’t mean so much.

 

“Make the right choice, Lord Ren. Put away your weapon and you may keep your wife with her fairytale revised memory. I have received all I need from her for now. You may take her home.”

 

Again, Kylo’s eyes rest on Rey. He is reminded of her laying sprawled asleep in the Force on the floor of his command shuttle years ago. Their secret son she had named Han and he had called Sheev had toddled around his ship that day. But that boy is gone. Gone to save Rey.

 

Snoke sees his hesitation and presses his case. “You cannot win. Now disengage!”

 

Kylo can’t tear his eyes off Rey now. He’s remembering holding her bleeding body in his arms, his mind in hers as she slipped away to become one with the Force. The intense emotions of that day rush up to him and Kylo relives the utter panic of the moment, the feeling of deep despair and the sense of defeat despite the victorious day.    

 

“You are not supposed to love a woman more than you love power,” Kylo sputters out the catechism of the Sith. He was never supposed to sacrifice his Force-strong son for Rey. And Snoke is not supposed to sacrifice his own power to revive his long dead wife. None of this should be happening.

 

“Yes,” the Muun concedes. “You and I have both failed in that regard, Apprentice.” Snoke flashes him a smirk. “Like father, like son.”

 

With a glare and a sigh, Kylo deactivates his sword. The Apprentice bows his head in submission to his Master and seethes. His lowered eyes blaze with rage and for a moment they flash pure yellow.

 

This isn’t over, Kylo vows silently.


	7. Chapter 7

Kylo brings Rey back to Bast and roughly dumps her unconscious in the Force on their bed. He needs to vent his rage at something, at someone. So he destroys the rest of their bedroom with his saber.   Leaving wide slash marks on the walls and splitting the furniture in two.

 

Rey sleeps through it all.

 

And the violence doesn't help.  Because while Kylo can destroy the room he can't destroy the memory of seeing Rey with Snoke. It is burned into his brain like a brand that will forever leave a mark. And every time Kylo glances over at her form face down on the bed all he can think of is Rey lying similarly on Snoke's bed.  And that reminds him of what she had been doing there in the first place.

 

So he broods.

 

A collision up ahead in their hyperspace lane had interdicted his command shuttle into deep space early this morning. The Leader's stronghold had been the closest secure area to use for his meeting.   And maybe, he thinks, Rey will still be there.   Plus, Kylo can pay his respects to the Supreme Leader and make his report in person.   So he had ordered the detour and all went as expected for a while.

 

But Kylo can't concentrate during the meeting because he can't shake a feeling of unease.   And then he feels it--Rey's Light. At first, he figures this must be part of how she uses the Force to heal his Master. But then Kylo feels it again, and a third time. And suddenly he recognizes that there is only one thing he knows that makes his wife's Force imprint blaze and flare like that. And now he is suspicious. Bursting out of his meeting without explanation to go in search of Rey. Feeling more and more certain that she's not with Snoke, she's with a lover.   And he follows her in the Force and, yes, she has a lover. And her lover is the man Kylo regards like a father.

 

He is devastated.

 

And hours later, the more he dwells on it, the worse it is. He can't decide which is the more bitter betrayal--his wife or his Master.

 

Kylo keeps pacing. Snoke has put Rey deeply asleep. No doubt to give Kylo time to cool off.   He considers waking her with the Force but rejects the idea. Because Kylo knows he is still too angry to face her.  That again he might be tempted to hurt her. And that maybe this time he would give in to that Dark urge.

 

So he broods some more.

 

Snoke is the far more culpable of the two--Kylo is convinced of that fact.   For he had seen his Master manipulate his wife once before. It had been a disgusting display of dominance of Master over Apprentice. And Kylo had known from then on that his wife could easily be enchanted by the Muun into any number of lewd acts on a whim.

 

But Rey had not been under Snoke's power when Kylo had found them together. And that certain knowledge cuts deep. When Kylo had walked in to find her gasping out his Master’s name, it had been real pleasure. Not some fantasy planted into her mind. Maybe his wife didn’t want to be in his Master's bed, but she had enjoyed herself there all the same. And that hurts.

 

Fuck! He needs to kill someone. He wants to feel the rush of Dark power as someone's essence flows back into the Force. Destruction is always so soothing. But Kylo knows that he is not strong enough to kill his Master and his Master has forbidden him to harm Rey. And, well, she is his Rey. So Kylo stews and stews with no outlet for his rage.  

 

Hours have passed and Kylo has to get his mind off this. So the Emperor puts his mask back on, summons what’s left of his staff from their beds and resumes the meeting he had been presiding over before Darth Plagueis fucked up his life by fucking his wife. So what if it’s late? Maybe he can do something productive while he waits for his adulterous wife to awaken and try to explain.

 

So Kylo is briefed on the stubborn remnants of the Resistance regrouping near Chandrila. And on the pockets of Resistance sympathizers in the Mid Rim.   There are competing proposals for how to deal with the dissidents, but Kylo quickly opts for the military option. If he can’t kill someone today, at the very least he can plan to kill someone tomorrow. Lots of someones.   Resistance someones who have it coming and should have died a few years ago anyhow.

 

Rey is awake now. Kylo can feel her sudden rush of consciousness in the Force. Yes . . . he concentrates a moment and feels her fear, feels her guilt, feels her sadness. He decides to wait to see her. To give her time to worry and to dread. Time to stare at the destroyed room she awakes to find and to imagine her Sith’s wrath.   As an Apprentice, Kylo answers to his Sith Master, but at Bast Castle Lord Ren is master. And Lady Ren will answer to her lord and master tonight.

 

But soon enough, Rey is out of the room and coming closer. He can sense her frantic thoughts and movements screaming at him in the Force. His wife never has learned to cloak her thoughts from him. Why bother, Rey had said when he brought it up for the umpteenth time. She has nothing to hide, Rey had told him with a sweet smile.

 

Yeah, right.

 

Fists clenched, Kylo stomps out the door just in time to intercept Rey in the hallway. Her hair is wet from a shower and she has a bag hiked over one shoulder. She looks like she’s going somewhere. Wait, isn’t that the bag she carries with the boys’ supplies?

 

“Where the Hell do you think you're going?” he roars as he steps directly into Rey’s path. And why the Hell is she dressed in those borrowed mechanics coveralls from the _Finalizer_? Milo should burn those. Just looking at them reminds Kylo of the last days of the war and Rey sitting in the hangar bay watching ships and feeding snacks to--Fuck!   That was a memory he did not need right now.

 

“Kylo—“ Rey steps back and she looks wary. Damn right she should be wary. Did she really think she could just ignore this and slink away? He keeps eyeing her bag. Just who does she think she’s taking with her?

 

Kylo does what he does best. He starts issuing orders in his tone of command that makes people leap to do his bidding. He’s the Emperor and he rules the galaxy, so he damn well intends to rule his own household. “Get back in your room, Empress. When we are finished here I will deal with you.”

 

“Did you kill him?” Rey asks breathlessly. “Is he dead?”

 

And this question just pisses him off further. “Worried about your lover?” Kylo snaps back. “He's alive.”

 

Rey glances over at the open door they are standing next to. It leads to a room full of his senior staff who no doubt are all ears for this confrontation. “He's not my lover,” she corrects him quietly.

 

“That's not what it looked like, wife! I catch you in bed with him, he's fucking you and you're having a terrific time.”

 

“Kylo—“

 

He doesn’t let her finish. “How long? How long has this been going on?” he demands.  She looks again to the open door and he waves a hand to close it belatedly.

 

“About a month,” she admits. He can see that Rey is trembling and through the Force he can feel her extreme anxiety. “I didn't want to do it.   Truly I didn't.” Her truth resonates in the Force and Kylo believes her. But maybe that’s because he wants to believe her.

 

He rips off his mask now to face her plainly. “Did you even try to resist him?” he demands and damn if his voice doesn’t sound hopeful to his own ears.   But he had looked Rey over once he had got her on his shuttle. There hadn't been a mark on her. Not even the telltale singe smell that he knows from personal experience lingers after his Master's lightning.  His eyes are searching hers now. “Did you even put up a fight?”

 

“I never got the chance,” she whispers.

 

This doesn’t square with what Kylo had walked in on. “You never wanted to! Don't lie to me!” He roars his outrage. “You knew exactly what you were doing when I walked in. You weren't under his power then were you?   Answer me!”

 

“No, I wasn't under his power today.”  His wife concedes this miserably, looking away. “I never resisted him, Kylo. I didn’t think I could.”

 

“Fuck, Rey,” he sighs. Blaming himself now a little. He had been the one to tell her never to argue with Snoke. But Kylo had worried about his scavenger girl sassing off and rolling her eyes at his eternal Sith Master over something trivial.   Not this. Shouldn’t she have at least tried to resist this? “Were you ever going to tell me?” he demands.

 

“No. Never.” It's the honest truth, he can sense it.

 

Kylo runs a hand through his hair as he shakes his head in frustration. “I can't believe this! Of him! Of you! I should have known this would happen.” And because the rage is still pent up and needing release, Kylo hurls the heavy metal helmet in his right hand hard into the wall. The wall dents, the helmet doesn’t. “He's always been hot for you,” Kylo mutters.  And, yes, Kylo knows this to be true. What Sith wouldn’t crave all Rey’s bewitching Light? All packaged together with a beautiful face and a young, lithe form. Rey is everything a Sith could ever want in a woman.

 

“He wants the Light,” she sputters.

 

“It's the same thing, Rey,” he snaps back, frowning at her naiveté.   “You could have told me. You could have trusted me,” he complains.

 

And this provokes a bitter outburst from Rey. “Really?” she challenges. “Because I saw what you did to our bedroom.” She looks him in the eye and shakes her head. “And would telling you have changed anything? He's your Master. You don't get to say no to him either, do you?”

 

Rey is right. Kylo has been happy to follow his Master’s command for over twenty years, and he has been unashamed to admit it. Until now, when he is deeply humiliated as the unsuspecting husband. Never before has his Master abused his authority.

 

Kylo’s silence just confirms Rey’s truth. “Yeah, that's what I thought,” she complains bitterly. She’s on the offensive now. “How can you be angry with me, Kylo!   It was sleep with him or he would kill one of the twins. Did he tell you that? There was no choice to make, Kylo! I would never sacrifice one of our children!”

 

No, his Master had not told him that he had threatened their children to get Rey into bed.  And this information catches Kylo off guard. But he shouldn’t be surprised. Sly old Darth Plagueis of course would know that Rey’s weakness is her family. It’s the only thing his abandoned scavenger has ever wanted in life.

 

“Oh, Rey—“ Kylo’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know what to say. And he's not liking where this might be heading.

 

“Fuck you, Kylo! You're mad? How the Hell do you think I feel? I was the one who basically got raped by Snoke when he fooled me into thinking he was you! And then what was the point in resisting him after that?   He would only mess with my mind again. So, yeah, I didn’t want him to fool me with the Force.   Even though I couldn't stop it, I wanted to know, Kylo. At the very least I wanted to know what was happening to me. Because no matter what bad shit happens in life, I want to know!”

 

Staring at his wife’s outrage, all Kylo can think is oh fuck Rey you have no idea. And he needs to keep it that way. She’s never supposed to know. Their history is not pretty.

 

“He threatened our children, Kylo! Our children! Stop thinking of yourself and start thinking of your kids!” Rey is crying now and she brushes past him. “I wish I had never heard of the Sith. You are monsters, both of you!”

 

Kylo reaches to catch her arm. His voice softens. “You used to say that I was your monster.”

 

Rey ignores him. “Did he tell you why? Did he? He has his dead wife in the basement. I saw her! He's kept her pickled in some tank eighty years waiting to wake her up.”

 

“He told me.”

 

“Don't you ever do that to me, Kylo! I don't want to be one of his Sith science experiments. Some walking corpse hundreds of years old like he and Milo.”

 

This is Kylo’s cue to come clean. Sort of. To have one less secret for his Master to hang over his head as leverage. So he does. “It's too late, Rey.”  The words tumble out on impulse before Kylo can stop them.

 

“What?” She doesn’t follow.

 

“When you were shot on Skywalker's ship. You died. My master revived you.”

 

“What?” Rey is still looking at him blankly.

 

“You died. I asked him to bring you back.”

 

“You told me I spent two weeks in a bacta tank.” Rey looks confused. “Smath told me that too.”

 

“You did,” Kylo confirms. “You were shot in the heart and in the arm. And once my Master revived you the medics had to heal the damage to your body from being dead a day before he awoke you.”

 

“So I died and you didn’t think to tell me?” The tone of Rey’s voice says it all. “Why didn't you tell me?” she whispers in horror.

 

“It was done.   And you were back so everything was fine.   The war was over.” Kylo tries to make light of the matter.   “It was a busy time,” he adds weakly. Already, Kylo regrets telling her this half-truth.

 

“Were you ever going to tell me?” Rey doesn’t wait for him to answer because her mind has quickly made the obvious inference. Understanding dawns on Rey and her eyes widen. “This is why he thinks he can do this, isn't it? Because I owe him my life! Because you owe him my life!” Rey lifts a hand now to cover her gaping mouth. “Yes . . . That's why he said you wouldn't kill him. Because you had a deal!” she accuses.

 

Kylo throws up his hands in denial. “Rey, I never agreed that he could use your Light.”

 

“Then what did you agree he could have? Darth Plagueis always has a reason and his reason is usually power.”

 

“It was a reward for killing Skywalker.   He brought you back because I killed my uncle.”  

 

Rey’s eyes narrow and Kylo can feel her concentrate on him in the Force. “You're not telling me everything,” she accuses.

 

Kylo stays silent.

 

“Kylo??”

 

“I’m telling you the truth.” And he is. Sort of. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you.” He improvises now. “It was touch and go for a while, Rey.”

 

She's not convinced. Rey folds her arms over her chest and announces, “Well, that’s it. I'm done.   Kylo, I’m done with you. Done with the Sith.”

 

What the fuck does that mean? “What do you mean done?” And wait a minute--how had this conversation morphed into Rey being pissed off at him? He was the one who walked in on her fucking his Master. And, yes, it was over her objection and under a threat to their kids but Rey had damn sure looked like she was having a great time. His wife still hasn’t explained that part. And hearing her dismissive tone gets him angry all over again. Can’t she see how hurt he is? “What the Hell do you mean done??”

 

“It means I don't trust you to protect me or the boys. And I don't trust you to tell me the truth.   And I don't trust Snoke and he is your Master and you will always do what he asks. I refuse to live like this! So I'm done. We’re through, Kylo.”

 

He is astounded by this speech. On so many levels Kylo is astounded. He is Sith, and Rey has known this from the beginning. She knew what she had signed up for. Even in the hearts and flowers version of their relationship that Snoke had planted in her mind. And she has long known of his relationship to his Master. Yeah, Kylo Ren is beholden and obedient but that’s the role of an Apprentice. And in exchange, Kylo learns from his Master and gets to rule the galaxy.  And Rey lives a life of ease and luxury as his Empress. On the whole, putting aside what he saw today, it hasn’t been a bad deal. And everyone is beholden to someone in life. Everyone except a Sith Master. Sith Masters only answer to history, as Darth Plagueis has told him repeatedly.

 

“You don't get to be done, Rey,” he growls at her. He and Rey are in this together, damn it. They’re a team. “You're the Empress, remember??” He tears the black glove off his left hand to brandish his scarred palm in her face. But she turns and starts walking away fast down the hall. He is reduced to yelling at her back, “This means forever, Rey. You are mine forever!”

 

She keeps walking.

 

Fuck that bitch! Who does she think she is? Where does she think she’s going? No one walks out on Emperor Ren. Kylo Ren has never handled rejection well. And he doesn’t tonight.

 

“You don't get to leave me, Rey! And you don't you dare think you’re taking our sons!”

 

She pauses. Rey doesn’t turn around, but he can tell that she is wavering. Yeah, he knew she hadn’t thought this stunt through.

 

“Those boys are Sith, Rey. And you will never take them from me. Ever!” And now she does turn to face him. Rey looks stricken, but she nods her acceptance all the same. And then she drops her bag with the baby supplies to the ground.

 

And his mouth falls open. Fuck, is she really doing this? No, she’s just bluffing. So he ups the ante. “If you leave here, don’t come back! It's over!” Kylo Ren is known for his ultimatums. And for making good on them. Just ask Chandrila.

 

But Rey starts walking again.

 

A sneaking, horrifying thought now leaps to the forefront of his mind. She wouldn’t—she couldn’t—would she? Now he is hollering and for certain every man in that conference next door can hear him plainly. “Are you going to him?? If you go to him, don’t come back, Rey! We're done!”

 

She’s still walking. Down the hall to the exit to the landing platform. It’s after midnight. Just where does she think she’s going? He could freeze her with the Force. He could call security and block her exit. He could shoot her custom TIE down. There are probably ten ways Kylo could stop her from leaving. But now he’s pissed and he wants her gone so he doesn’t have to deal with her.

 

His voice is even louder now. He wants to make sure she can hear him. “Go ahead and walk away!   Abandon your family like someone once abandoned you!   You faithless Jakku trash! You fucking Resistance bitch! Don’t come back!”

 

Somewhere rooms away he can hear a baby cry and now he’s woken up the twins. No doubt they can sense all this conflict rippling in the Force. All their father’s seething emotion leaking out. He’s a man overwrought from the worst day of his life.

 

Rey disappears outside and he just stands there as he tugs back on his left glove. Before he goes to bed, he’s slapping a bacta patch on his hand to heal the scar. Then but for their twin sons, it will be like he and Rey never happened. And then maybe the hurt will stop.

 

Kylo whirls at the sound of the door opening beside him. It’s the First Knight Nestor Ren, his friend for over a decade, venturing out of the conference room.   Nestor closes the door behind him and steps forward to ask quietly, “Should I go after her?”

 

“Yeah,” Kylo concedes. “Her ship has a tracker. She'll disable it if she finds it.”

 

Nestor nods. “Who's this guy I have to find for you?”

 

“What guy?”

 

“Her lover.” Nestor doesn’t mince words. “I'll find him, Kylo. I’ll find him and I’ll bring him to you to kill.”

 

Now that’s loyalty, Kylo thinks. Real loyalty from his longtime comrade in arms. Not like his faithless wife who enjoys going to bed with his Master and then walks out on him. “No.” Kylo speaks coldly. “I know who he is. I know where he is.”

 

Nestor looks confused. “Fuck, Kylo. Then why haven't you—“

 

“He gets to live,” Kylo decrees. “For now.”


	8. Chapter 8

It never ends. Orphaned throw-away Rey grew up abused by Unkar Plutt. And now, even as Empress, she is abused by the Sith. The circumstances are different but the feeling of powerlessness is the same. And Rey is tired of it.  

 

So when she had awoken to find herself in her bedroom at Bast Castle, with the aftermath of Kylo’s destructive tantrum writ large everywhere, Rey had decided she would endure no more.  She is taking back control over her life. At least, she’s going to try. Just for a few days until Kylo catches up with her and there’s Hell to pay.

 

Rey doesn’t know whether she is expected back in the Supreme Leader’s bed in four days’ time as usual. And if she is, Rey seriously doubts that Kylo would let her go there. But for now, Rey is desperate for some time to clear her head. To make sense of it all. And to get away from the Sith.

 

Desperate enough to leave her little boys behind. Their father will have to protect them for now.

 

Running away may not solve anything, but it feels good to escape. Rey runs to a place where she can get lost in the crowd. Where her accent and her uniform will blend in. To the bright center of the universe. To Coruscant.

 

Balen Phasma’s artist studio aerie on the Upper Level is the only place on Coruscant where Rey knows to land her ship. Once towards the end of the war, she, Kylo and others had traveled to Coruscant and spent an afternoon with Captain Phasma’s famed artist husband.   Rey hasn’t seen the man since then, but boldly she knocks at his door. She has already mind tricked her way past the landing pad security. Hopefully, she won’t have to mind trick Balen as well.

 

The artist himself appears and instantly recognizes Rey, even in her nondescript attire. “Empress!” he exclaims and Rey quickly raises a finger to her lips and shakes her head no. He takes the hint. “Come in, please,” he says in a much softer tone. Then he steps aside for her to enter and peers into the hallway to make certain she hasn’t been seen. Satisfied, he tells her in a low voice, “I have a portrait subject sitting for me now. But I think she may have fallen asleep. She’s very old. It’s just her and her nurse droid.”

 

Rey nods and walks into the artist’s studio.   Yes, the man has been interrupted at his work. There is an easel off to the side with a half-finished canvas. It’s a painting of an old woman. The subject herself sits in a hoverchair in the streaming morning sunlight. A medical protocol droid waits in the corner. The droid looks even more ancient than the woman.

 

She looks up as Rey enters. And she stares.

 

But Rey doesn’t notice. She has turned back around to Balen and she’s talking fast. Hours after the confrontation with Kylo, Rey’s adrenaline is still pumping hard. “I’m sorry to drop in on you like this. I’m alone. I just needed someplace to land.”

 

“Of course,” the polite artist acts like this is a perfectly reasonable explanation, as if the incognito Empress of the galaxy might pop into his studio any given day of the week unannounced. But then he adds, “The Order has its own base not far from here. We can call a transport and security from there to accompany you to wherever you’re going.”

 

And this forces Rey to look him in the eye and tell him, “I don’t want the Order to know I’m here.”

 

Balen Phasma digests this information for a moment. “May I ask why?” he ventures warily.

 

Rey hesitates. And then--

 

“I know who you are.” The ancient woman in the hoverchair interrupts to call over at Rey. “I've looked at your pictures.   A lot.”  The old lady has a broad Rim accent and a loud voice for such a dainty, shrunken looking body. When Rey turns, the old lady fixes her with a direct look. The portrait subject may look feeble, but her gaze is still sharp.

 

Rey smiles weakly—she doesn’t want to be rude—then turns back to the artist. “Look, I just want permission to leave my ship here on your landing platform. I’m sure it has a tracker. The Order will find it soon and pick it up.”

 

Balen Phasma nods. He looks concerned. “Are you in some sort of trouble?” he asks quietly.

 

Rey shakes her head no. “We . . . uh . . . had a fight.” She’s deliberately not using names since she and Balen have an audience who is observing intently. “And I want some space for a bit. You can tell them that when they arrive. You saw me, I left my ship and you don’t know where I went. Tell them the complete truth.” Hopefully, Kylo won’t arrive to tear this man’s brain apart for information, Rey thinks. Suddenly, she realizes how much danger she is putting him in.  

 

“I hear that accent.” The old lady speaks up again from across the room. It’s almost as if she’s irked at being ignored. “You're posh through and through, aren't you? I bet the Muun loves you. Hego Damask always was such a snob.”

 

Rey shoots the woman a sharp look now, taking her first good look at her. The old lady is tiny and birdlike with pale skin and white hair coiled back in a ballerina’s chignon. And though she has the drooping eyes and deep wrinkles of very advanced age, she is beautiful still.   This dowager has what people call good bone structure--a classic oval face, high cheekbones, an elegant nose and a wide forehead.   Age never takes that away. The woman is swathed in elegant black clothes but she wears a full face of makeup in theatrically bold colors. And somehow it’s fitting. Whoever this old lady is, she’s no shrinking violet.

 

She meets Rey’s eyes and now the Empress has been caught staring.

 

“Yes, I know who he is.” A slow knowing smile spreads across the old woman’s features. Then she raises a ringed finger to punctuate her warning. “Take it from me, girl. Be careful of that old Muun.”

 

Curiosity gets the better of Rey. “Who are you?” she asks even though she knows better than to start a conversation with a stranger like this.

 

Balen rushes to make the introductions. “May I present Madame—“ He falters as the old lady waves him off with an imperious gesture.

 

“These days I am mostly a philanthropist. Phasma here is painting my portrait for the lobby of the Coruscant Ballet. Over the years I have given them so many credits that they have to hang my portrait out front.” She snorts and laughs at this. Then shoots Rey a sly look. “After all these years, I have become gentrified. Perhaps Chairman Damask will approve of me at long last.”

 

The old lady is enjoying her mystery and Rey takes the bait. “Who were you?” she challenges.

 

The old lady grins now. “I was an entrepreneur of the Underworld.” She says this proudly. “Madame was not my name, it was my job. For many years I ran most of the whorehouses here on Coruscant. I still own them. I'm just too old to run them now.”

 

“Oh,” is all Rey can think to say. She hadn’t been expecting that answer.

 

Behind her, Balen coughs and Rey can’t decide if he’s uncomfortable that this highly improper woman is talking to his Empress or whether he’s stifling a laugh.

 

The old lady leans forward in her chair slightly, looking wicked. “My girls used to entertain your husband and his men.   Kylo Ren had some wild nights in my clubs. Who's his second in command? I forget his name.” She snaps her fingers impatiently at Rey.

 

“Nestor. Nestor Ren,” Rey supplies the missing name.   Yes, the imperious old lady does indeed recognize her. And it’s unnerving. Especially since she just namedropped Hego Damask the secret Sith and the one-time alias of Darth Plagueis.

 

“Nestor. Yeah, him. My managers told me that the girls used to fight over him. He was the favorite.” She shoots Rey a sideways glance. “Your man, not so much.   My best club used to send the First Order girls for Vader's castle on Naboo every now and then. On the house, of course.   I learned long ago that you do favors for the Sith, but you never ask favors of them.   Because then they own you.” The old lady frowns and then grumbles, “They are even worse than the Hutts like that.”

 

Rey stares at this old woman who seems to know far more than she should. And, Rey suspects, far more than she’s letting on. Whoever she is, the woman continues undeterred in her stream of awkward, inappropriate disclosures that Rey would rather not know.

 

“For years, Kylo Ren used to request curvy blondes but then he switched to brunettes. Thin brunettes with long hair. A few years later when I saw your picture I figured out why.”

 

“Now, Madame,” a horrified Balen Phasma is quick to interject. He’s clearly trying to salvage the situation. “This is hardly a proper topic for—“

 

But the old lady just waves him off again and speaks over him in that loud voice of hers. “Oh, don't be offended, girl. He never really fucked them. Kylo Ren only ever wanted oral.” Rey blinks at this crude language. And she feels her face getting hot as her cheeks turn pink. Rey is a girl from Jakku and she’s seen her share of prostitution. But it’s not something Empress Rey wants to talk about. She doesn’t care what Kylo did before they were married. Whatever. That is the past. Rey opens her mouth to say something but hesitates as a thought occurs to her.

 

So the rude old lady keeps going. She’s grinning ear to ear at Rey. Pleased to have the upperhand in the conversation. “The Sith are funny about sex. Old fashioned, really.  Once they fuck you, they always want to marry you. That's what got Shan and I into this mess. You too, I suppose. The Sith can be so obsessive. So possessive.”

 

“Shan,” Rey repeats Snoke’s dead wife’s name softly. “Shan Damask.”

 

The old lady nods at this. “Oh, yes, I knew Shan Damask. Briefly. Long, long ago. Shan was a nice girl. She didn’t deserve what happened. He did. But she didn’t.”

 

“You're Cresta Cole!” Rey nearly shouts this as it all comes together. Insight is blazing up at her in the Force.   “You’re—you’re—“

 

“Yes, I am.” The old woman beams with smug pride at being recognized by Rey. She raises her left palm.   “The mark is very faded now. You can barely see it with all my wrinkles. But it’s still there.” And now that the obnoxious disclosures and opinions are out of the way, the old lady sounds almost sweetly wistful.

 

“Lady Sidious,” Rey whispers this aloud in stunned amazement. “How are you alive?” Rey cringes as soon as the words leave her mouth. They sound so incredulous.

 

But Madame Cole shrugs it off. “You mean how am I alive at my age or how did I manage to avoid getting killed all these years?”

 

Both, Rey thinks to herself. Because this sharp old dame is very provoking. Rey can only imagine what she was like in her younger days.

 

“Sheev kept me in my middle years with his magic. For almost thirty years I was a great looking fifty something. The Dark Side is better than Botox, trust me.” Madame Cole laughs at her own joke. “But when Sheev died, I got old again like everyone else. And now I'm very old. Old as Coruscant. But not nearly as old as that damn Muun. He’ll outlive us all.”

 

When Rey stays silent, the old lady keeps talking. “Your young man and the Muun have spent years trying to recreate everything my Sheev accomplished. My emperor did it first and did it better, girl.” Again, there is pride in her voice.  

 

She gives Rey an appraising look. Taking in Rey’s slept in, too big jumpsuit, bare face and ponytail. “So you’ve left Kylo Ren, have you?” The unapologetic dowager shrugs off her eavesdropping. “Yeah, I overheard. Another young Sith wife on the run. Decades ago I had a chance meeting like this.   Life is strange how it repeats itself. But Sheev would say that's the Force. He thought everything coincidental was the Force.”

 

Cresta Cole purses her red lacquered lips for a moment before quickly moving on to the practicalities. “Well, if you are going to make a run for it, you had better change your appearance. You are way too recognizable even dressed like that.  Go get some new clothes and change your hair.” That sparks an idea and now the old lady is cackling with glee. “Yes! Yes! Dye your hair flaming red. That will give the old Muun a heart attack when they catch you.” Her cackle becomes a hacking, wheezing cough now. For this longtime Sith wife is weak in body, if not in spirit.  

 

The droid comes forward but is impatiently waved away with a croaking command. “Go away, Four Dee.” Then Cresta Cole succumbs to another coughing fit. When finally she can speak again, the old lady resumes giving unsolicited advice. “Listen to me, girl. Listen well. The game is up when he catches you. You get on your knees and you beg your Sith like Shan and I each once did. We lived, Empress. And you might too. Don't argue or you might end up like Vader's girl.”

 

“Padme,” Rey whispers the name aloud, instantly thinking of the portrait of the glamorous Old Republic senator and one-time queen that hangs in Bast Castle.

 

“Was that her name? I forget. I'm old. She was from Naboo like Sheev. Prissy little thing.”

 

“The Jedi murdered her,” Rey says. She’s confused.

 

Cresta Cole scoffs. “Is that the story they tell?   It’s a lie. The kid choked the life out of his wife when she turned on him. The foolish girl was nine months pregnant at the time. She lived to have those kids and died.”

 

Rey swallows hard because these words ring absolutely true in the Force. Whatever Kylo has been told, it is clearly not the whole story. And maybe not the truth at all. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course, I’m sure! My Sheev used to laugh at the thought of old Plagueis watching from afar as his son became Sheev's apprentice and then his grandson became the Last Jedi. Oh, the irony of it all . . .” Madame Cole’s voice trails off into memories.

 

“So Palpatine knew that Snoke lived?” Rey hadn’t known this.

 

“Of course.” The old lady reacts as if this were simple commonsense. “You can’t kill old Darth Plagueis. But only my Sheev was brave enough to try,” Cresta Cole says proudly.  She leans forward in her chair to give her words emphasis. “Look, girl, I know a thing or two about surviving the Sith. Out of all of us, I'm the one who's still alive. So heed my words: you will never get completely away from them. When you’re caught, submit to the Sith. It will gain you some freedom in the long run. It might not be ideal, but it’s better to live.”

 

Rey scowls at his. Like Hell she is going to submit to any Sith ever again. Well, okay, yes. But only to save her twins.  Not to save her marriage.

 

Palpatine’s secret wife reads her expression expertly. She looks Rey over with almost motherly approval. “I’m proud like that too, girl. I understand. But sometimes you win just by staying in the game. Pick your battles. And only pick the ones you can win.”

 

Yes, Rey, understands this sentiment. For she too is a survivor. She survived Jakku and she’s going to survive the Sith. Like this Cresta Cole woman apparently has.

 

“Empress,” Balen Phasma has dropped all pretense now at avoiding the use of her title. He looks nervous. “You need to get going. If there is a tracker on your ship, the Order will be here soon.”

 

Rey glances back at Madame Cole. There’s a lot she would like to ask this bizarre old dame. But now is not the time.   Reluctantly, Rey nods her agreement to the artist.

 

“Here,” Captain Phasma’s husband stuffs a credit card into her hand. “Take this. You’re going to need it. The first thing they’ll do is freeze your card.”

 

Yes, that sounds right. Rey closes her hand around the money he has given her. “Thank you, Balen. I don’t know how to repay your kindness.”

 

“It is an honor to aid you, Empress. Now go,” he urges. “There’s a free public transport stop right below us on the next level down. You can disappear into the crowd.”

 

“Good luck, girl,” Cresta Cole calls after her fast retreating form. “Remember what I said.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

He's glad that bitch is gone. It saves Kylo the struggle of having to live with her while he figures out what, if anything, he can do about his Master.

 

So once Nestor Ren tracks Rey’s ship to the galactic capital world, Kylo cuts off her credit card immediately out of spite. Let's see how long she can last in Coruscant with no cash, he sneers at the underling whose task it is to fulfill his order. Then he sends someone immediately to collect the Empress' ship. Rey had flown her specially tricked out TIE prototype painted red with black, the inverse of the Order's regulation colors.   It had been a gift and Kylo is taking it back. He won't let her sell it for parts or whatever else she might do with it.

 

Kylo knows his Rey. Knows that the resourceful scavenger from Jakku will survive just fine on her own. But Kylo isn't about to make it easy for her.  

 

But he does give orders to all First Order outposts on Coruscant to alert him the moment any civilian woman shows up claiming to be Rey or asking to contact the Emperor.   And, just to be on the safe side, all hospitals and police facilities on Coruscant have a complete description of Rey just in case she gets arrested in a bar fight or hit by a transport or whatever else might happen to his clueless desert girl in the big city. Of course, the local authorities don’t know it’s the Empress they are on the lookout for. The woman is just a person of particular interest to the Order at the highest levels.  

 

The twins start walking the very next day after Rey leaves. An excited Milo finds him in the hallway to tell him and dutifully Kylo follows him out to the garden terrace. Hand in hand, together his baby boys careen down the gravel path. One stumbles and pulls the other down with him. Then they climb back to their feet, grab each other's hands and try anew.   The boys are laughing and gurgling at their newfound skill and enjoying the small crowd of attendants who cheer and look on. It's an adorable moment and an important milestone and his wife is missing it.

 

And that saddens him. Rey would have loved this, is all Kylo can think. His wife would have been whooping the loudest of anyone. And rushing to check for scratches and bumps after each fall. Oh, damn, he can’t believe she is missing this. But then Kylo reminds himself that Rey has forfeited the right to witness this joy. His expression hardens.

 

Beside him, Milo is filming a video. And no doubt planning to send it to Rey. So Kylo beats him to it. He grabs the camera from Milo and sends the footage to Rey’s datapad himself with the message 'Doing just fine without Mommy. Before long, they won't even remember you. Just like you don't remember the mother who abandoned you.'

 

And maybe that's petty and cruel, but Kylo enjoys doing it. He can be an asshole like that. And yeah, abandonment might be too strong a word since Rey hasn’t even been gone twelve hours yet.   But he can be dramatic like that.

 

He takes one last long look and stomps away. But not before Kylo recognizes that his little twins are now toddling around over their secret dead brother's unmarked grave. And that just puts Kylo in a worse mood.

 

This time around, his Master had even named his kids. The old Sith had given hima wry look and told him not to name any more sons after apprentices who hadtried to kill him. So he had dubbed the twins Bane and Hego. Only recently had Kylo understood that his Master had named a son after himself.  It was a special honor, and Kylo had been touched. And he had recognized it for the possessive claim that it is--that his children are as much his Master's creatures as Kylo is. And Kylo understands that now more than ever. For Snoke had threatened to kill his children and had abused his wife with impunity.

 

Such is the privilege of a Sith Master. Because power explains and excuses everything. And if anyone ought to understand that point of view, it is a Sith Apprentice.

 

But Kylo does not understand. He’s the Emperor of the galaxy and yet he has never felt so powerless. Once, he might have succeeded in killing his decrepit and slow Master, but not now that Rey has healed him so effectively. Kylo knows he is stuck with this situation. And that is equal parts infuriating and distressing.

 

A week, he decides. He will give Rey a week before he goes after her. He doesn’t want to look desperate, after all. And she’ll be back long before that, he reasons. There’s no way she will stay away from the twins that long. No way. He hopes.


	9. Chapter 9

His Master wants a Senate. Snoke is bothering him about the fucking legislative process as if nothing untoward had occurred two days ago. It's obnoxious and galling. And it’s a pretext, for certain. His Master wants to take his temperature, to test his loyalty. Because last time they met, each had a sword in their hand, Kylo recalls vividly. And so part of Kylo has actually looked forward to this meeting. Because even if it’s over a hologram, he wants his Master to have to look him in the eye.

 

Which Darth Plagueis does easily and without comment. The Muun has always known how to compartmentalize better than Kylo. It’s one more way in which the Emperor knows he is outclassed by Snoke. The secret Sith had spent years genially rubbing shoulders with those he plotted to kill. So it’s no great feat to stare down the Apprentice whose wife he so casually and thoroughly fucked.

 

"Have you reconsidered the issue?"

 

Not really. All Kylo has been considering lately is how much he would like to kill this Muun monster. He is incensed over how his Master has treated him. Over how his Master has treated his Rey. And, Gods, it is so hard for his Rey to trust. He wonders if Snoke has any idea how much damage he has done to her.

 

But while he may be the galactic Emperor, Kylo is also a Sith Apprentice and he does what he is told. So he responds curtly. "Yes, I will announce a plan to convene a Senate."

 

Snoke nods his approval at this concession. "Apprentice, you are skilled in the strategy of war. But you know nothing of peace.   Watch and learn, Lord Ren. For I am a Sith schooled in times of peace.”

 

“Peace is a lie,” Kylo growls back the age old wisdom of the Dark Side.

 

“Indeed it is.” Snoke seems slightly amused at this quick rejoinder of Sith catechism. “For a millennium, the Sith operated under the guise of peace. Manipulating and sometimes outright controlling huge swaths of the galaxy. But everywhere in disguise and with our motives concealed.” Snoke reminisces now with undisguised pride. “We were the invisible hand behind so much. We were the stealth undoing of so many.”

 

The Sith Master warms to his theme. And damn if Kylo isn't all ears despite his extreme anger. For his Master's past has for years been shrouded in mystery and innuendo. And as bits and pieces of old Darth Plagueis’ exploits have taken shape, Kylo is humbled by his Master's achievements in the Force and in history. And though Kylo will admit it to no one, he knows he still has much to learn. So he too will compartmentalize today.

 

"Peace is a lie, Kylo Ren. For conflicts persist even if armed hostilities have ceased. But beware because those hostilities are quick to resume. I take no issue with war so long as the violence serves a larger purpose. But the usual purpose of war is change, and change is dangerous for those in power.   Thus for the time being, our course is peace.”

 

And now his Master begins issuing instructions. “You must immerse yourself in the conflicts of your realm if you are to govern effectively. You must understand them. How they arose, why they persist, whose interests they serve. And you must know the players. Their weaknesses, their strengths, their true desires.   When you form a Senate, you provide a natural forum for the conflicts and you organize the players. It brings them out in the open, out of the shadows. This is key.”

 

“Do not mistake this as ceding power. Sidious and I had bought and sold most of the Old Republic Senate long before your grandfather was ever born.   Forming a Senate will help you to manipulate conflicts to your advantage in the longer term.”

 

Yes, Kylo thinks, his Master always plays the long game. For Darth Plagueis has nothing but time to waste. The Muun settles back on his chair and considers. Now Kylo can feel a lecture coming on. And, frankly, he’s not in the mood for it.

 

“Lord Ren, you have no idea how fortunate you are to have me as Master. Other Sith have not been so lucky.”

 

Fortunate is not exactly how Kylo would describe the situation just now.   But he says nothing.  

 

“Darth Sidious was a horrible Master. He was afraid to teach Vader, fearing that my son would quickly eclipse his own power. So for years, Sidious used Vader as his errand boy. Ordering him to wander the galaxy to hunt down rebels that the military could attend to. Keeping him hidden far away from the locus of power. For years, the young Vader was thought of as mere rumor by many within the inner circles. That is how peripheral he was kept by Sidious. My son never mastered basic Sith teachings like Force lightning because Sidious withheld his knowledge.” Snoke pauses to frown. “It was a wasted life in large part. So much potential stunted first by the dogma of the Jedi, then by horrific injuries and finally by Sidious. And in the end Vader threw his own life away over sentiment for a Jedi boy who had renounced him.”

 

Kylo furrows his brow. This is a very different point of view on his grandfather’s proud legacy than he has ever heard from his Sith Master. But it all rings true. Vader the Imperial enforcer and brilliant military strategist had never reached his full potential because he had been held back by his wary, jealous Master. Maybe, Kylo thinks, that helps to explain how desperate Vader had been to win the young Luke Skywalker to his cause. Because his grandfather too had wanted to get his Sith Master off his back. And he needed Luke Skywalker’s help to do it.

 

“When I took you on as Apprentice, I planned that together we would surpass Sidious and his Empire   That we would build something lasting and significant. Not the twenty-five year wonder that was Sidious' reign. Trust me, the man will be a mere footnote in history.  His name will not be remembered among the greatest Sith. But ours could be, my son.” Snoke dangles this for him to ponder in silence for a moment.

 

Then Darth Plagueis gets right to the point. “Apprentice, you cannot kill me.” But still his tone is unfailingly calm and patient. Clearly, his Master is doing damage control.   Snoke wants to soothe things over today rather than to stoke the conflict further. But he’s not exactly extending an olive branch. Instead, in typical Snoke fashion, he is reasoning with Kylo. For an emotional Sith, Darth Plagueis is remarkably rational in all things. It’s very Muun.

 

Snoke repeats, “You cannot kill me. I know that is your wish, but it is not possible. Not anymore. That leaves three alternative outcomes.  I kill you and rule the galaxy on my own. We continue to work together as Master and Apprentice. Or I step aside to watch you fail and bide my time like I did once before.”

 

“Step aside,” growls Kylo automatically.

 

And this knee jerk bravado makes the eternal Sith chuckle a little. “You wouldn't last twenty-five years, Lord Ren. You would never last five without me. You know war, but not peace. You can conquer but you have not yet learned to govern. You can build an empire with the sword but you will never keep it that way.”

 

“You might be surprised.”  

 

“Son, I helped to dismantle the Galactic Republic. It was an excellent learning tool. For you learn how to build something once you take it apart.” Snoke keeps sharing his wisdom as though they are still allies and not enemies. And calling him son.

 

“The galaxy is a mix of different cultures, different languages and different species. To unify it, you must give it shared ideas, shared goals and a shared economy.   The Rim and the Core need to want to remain allies and they need to benefit from their alliance.   It is more than trade and taxes. It is culture.” The old Muun leans forward in his chair to ask pointedly, “Tell me, Lord Ren, what does a brute like you with a Jakku Empress know about culture?”

 

Kylo frowns. His Master has a point, he begrudgingly acknowledges.

 

“That is not a criticism,” Snoke soothes over his barb. “You have accomplished much in your time, my young Alexander. But you have more skills to learn. And they are harder, more subtle attributes of which I am a longstanding expert. And unlike your grandfather's Master, I am willing to teach.”  

 

And with that preamble, Darth Plagueis makes his offer. “If you desire to reach your full potential, if you want to outshine your grandfather’s legacy, if you wish to be known among the greatest of the Sith, do not reject what I am offering to you. You need my help to maintain your Empire and to keep your power. We are stronger together.”

 

And that is his Master’s elegant way of telling Kylo to suck it up. That yeah, I fucked your wife, but suck it up. Because it’s all in service of the greater glory of the Sith.

 

Kylo knows he is being manipulated. That his Master knows how hungry he is for the power and knowledge of the man who plotted two empires. And how conflicted that makes Kylo about wanting to kill him. Because deep down Kylo knows he can’t kill Darth Plagueis. And deep down Kylo doesn't want to kill his Master, at least not until he learns all he can from him. Because Kylo is enough of a Force geek to know that the secrets of Dark power should be passed on and not allowed to die with his Master.  He has his twin sons to think of, after all. And, well, really deep down Kylo actually likes his Master. There’s that too.

 

“Consider it further, my boy. Search your feelings on the matter.” Snoke’s lecture is over and abruptly, his Master shifts topics. “Where is your Empress?”

 

Kylo Ren would bet half the First Order’s fleet that his Master already knows the answer to that question. Kylo has long known that Milo is a pipeline of information back to his old boss. But the Apprentice dutifully responds. "Coruscant."

 

"Does she have the little Ren?" Again, Kylo is certain that his Master already knows the information he asks.

 

"No. They are at Bast."

 

"Good. Do you plan to retrieve her?"

 

This feels like a trick question. Like he's damned if he does, damned if he doesn't. So Kylo sidesteps the question with a statement.   "She walked out on me," he growls in displeasure.

 

The Supreme Leader digests this, but makes no comment. Instead, he decrees, "For so long as you are apart, you will permit her to visit the children."

 

Like Hell he will. Kylo’s dark eyes flash up in annoyance. The twins are part of what Rey gave up when she walked out. And they are Kylo’s best bet for getting her to come crawling back to him. And then Kylo can reject her like she did him. Because he's still mad and he wants to get even. And then they can patch things up and move on.

 

So Kylo takes a page out of his Master's playbook and asks for a justification. "Why?" It comes out as belligerent as Kylo means it.

 

"Kylo Ren, have you learned nothing from your own family's past? If you remain apart and you keep her from your sons, one day they will seek her out. And then your little Siths will go seeking the Light."

 

Kylo frowns at this wisdom. The Muun is right, of course.  It’s annoying, but true. The Muun is right about most everything. Including the fact that Kylo needs his help.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rey quickly learns that not many things on Coruscant are free. But this is one of them, and free is good right now. The New Republic had turned the Imperial Palace into a history museum focusing on the Old Republic. It’s still a museum under the First Order’s Second Empire, but the content has changed rather dramatically. Now the museum tells the history of the original Empire. And, well, it’s a revisionist, rose-colored-glasses version of Palpatine’s grand vision. With some large and important edits and omissions that very few people are privy to. But Rey is one of those people.

 

She sits on a bench outside the crowded Darth Vader exhibit watching groups of school children file by for indoctrination. Tourists snap selfie photos next to a life size replica of the long dead Dark lord of the Sith. He’s Snoke’s son in the Force, Kylo’s biological grandfather and her sons’ great-grandfather. And, Rey suspects, not a man who would appreciate being a photo op. It’s kind of humorous to imagine how the Sith himself might react to this ridiculousness.   He would probably choke a few people, she decides.   Kylo says choking was Vader’s signature Force move. Kind of like Kylo freezing blaster bolts.

 

Rey reaches into her bag and pulls out her last ration kit.   It’s a habit from Jakku—Rey never goes anywhere without at least one ration kit and a bottle of water. She had stocked her TIE with several and, as it turns out, they did come in handy. She’s been eating off them for three days now as she wanders Coruscant. Aimlessly getting on and off the free public transports to tour the galaxy’s Eternal City.

 

It’s strangely liberating to be alone and on her own again. Perhaps another woman might be scared to be in her situation, but not Rey. It’s almost as if she’s come back to her roots, to her true self, to the girl who braved it all because she had no other option. And it’s nice be anonymous. She’s wearing the First Order mechanic’s uniform with the sleeves and legs rolled up. Her hair is in a ponytail and she’s free of all cosmetics.   No one would ever guess that the Empress herself is sitting munching a protein muffin and people watching at a museum.

 

It’s one more bizarre irony to her life. For if Lady Rey, Empress of the Second Empire isn’t all that she appears to be with her fancy Coruscant accent and expensive clothes, then neither is this random everywoman in a rumpled slept-in jumpsuit who sits outside an exhibit about her notorious in-laws. Yes, Rey muses, appearances can be misleading and the truth can be elusive. Especially where the Sith are concerned.

 

Kylo had indeed reclaimed her TIE. Balen Phasma had sent her a quick note to inform her that the First Order had shown up about an hour after she did. And Rey wasn’t surprised. She knew it had a tracker. She doesn’t even bother looking over her shoulder for stormtroopers now. She knows that it’s only a matter of time before she gets picked up. No one wants the Empress going rogue in Coruscant, after all.

 

Think of the scandal if she were to be recognized. The tightly controlled image of her that the First Order PR machine works hard to construct might be revealed as fake. And then the galaxy might know that there are cracks in the façade of the perfect couple who are their Emperor and Empress. The young pair whose only known joint public appearance was holding hands at an execution.   Apparently, the couple who kills together doesn’t stay together, Rey muses grimly.

 

She keeps expecting an angry, masked Kylo to sweep in striding fast before a squad of heavily armed troopers.   During wartime, always the man had arrived in public with a show of force. Rey remembers for a moment her husband leaping down from his still landing shuttle, black robes flying and sword blazing as he rushed to save her from Luke Skywalker. Her Sith had frozen a roomful of blaster bolts as he had stalked forward to her rescue.   Yes, the man knows how to make a dashing entrance, Rey thinks. He’ll probably do the same thing when he appears to drag her back to Bast. And the PR machine will find a way to portray it as some romantic resolution to a lovers’ spat or something equally as duplicitous.

 

Rey busies herself musing over what Kylo’s reaction would be to the Darth Vader selfie statue. She can’t decide if her Sith would laugh or be offended. Maybe a little of both. She’s grinning at this thought, and Rey doesn’t notice the tall, strapping man who walks right up to loom over her.

 

Because he hides in the Force just like Kylo.

 

“Snoke!” she exhales his name as she visibly starts at the very sight of him. The very unexpected sight of him. The Supreme Leader himself is standing alone before her incognito in a crowded museum. Rey blinks for a second to make sure what’s she’s seeing is real. She’s never once seen the Supreme Leader outside of his stronghold lair tucked away in anonymous deep space.   And the formal man she knows looks downright casual in his black tunic, pants and boots with a long cape.   Actually, he looks very Vader like that, Rey observes. Very Sith.

 

Instantly, she shoots to her feet in flustered respect and instant fear but he waves her back to the bench. And then, incredibly, he seats himself beside her. To the casual onlooker, they look like two random people on a bench at a museum.

 

“Do not say my name,” he instructs her quietly as he too pretends to people watch beside her.

 

"Yes, my lord,” she hastens to agree. “You’re not who I expected," she adds somewhat inanely. "Did he send you?"

 

The Supreme Leader raises an eyebrow at this and Rey colors in embarrassment at this gaffe. No, Kylo would not have the authority to send his Master anywhere.

 

"Forgive me, my lord." Rey quickly makes amends. This conversation is not off to a good start. "Of course, that would not be the case.”

                                                                      

"I am enjoying my anonymity today,” the Sith Master tells her easily.   For oddly enough, after all that has transpired, she and Snoke are still sort of comfortable around each another. The last time they saw one another had been naked in bed, after all.   It’s not that they are friends. More that circumstances have put them on very intimate terms.

 

“It has been more than a century since I could walk in the open like this. There was a time when my movements were trailed by security and paparazzi. A time when a room full of people would stand at my entrance and when I would be greeted first with a bow and then a handshake. I was a celebrated business leader who moved markets with a few casual words.” He says this with quiet pride and some nostalgia. “Yes, I was very watched at the time. Appearing everywhere in the open but known as Sith to very few.   It is a great irony now, many years later, to rule it all anonymously.” He crosses his arms and sits back as he takes it all in. “There are probably thirty beings alive who have seen the face of their Supreme Leader. And fewer still who have seen my face healed."

 

Rey nods. She knows that Snoke has long kept to his solitude. First hiding from Sidious and then from Skywalker.

 

“I have been too long in the shadows, Empress. Too long on the sidelines. That will end soon and I will no longer have this anonymity. No man becomes Sith to hide his accomplishments. We take pride in our glory and we revel in our command. My son over there certainly did.” Snoke nods in the direction of the Vader selfie statue.

 

“Did you ever meet him?” Rey wants to know. Had Darth Vader ever known of Darth Plagueis the Wise, she wonders.

 

“Yes.” Snoke does not elaborate. Instead, he speaks of his Jedi wife now, and not his son. “This building was once the main Jedi Temple. It was hallowed ground for the Light. Twice my wife fled here to safety, and twice she was turned away.” Now the Muun turns to Rey, telling her, “There is no sanctuary from the Sith, my dear. There is nowhere to hide. My Shan learned that the hard way. It would be best if you do not replicate her mistake.”

 

Rey swallows hard. She hears the warning loud and clear. Don’t run away again.

 

Satisfied that his message has been understood, Snoke moves on. "Have you left my Apprentice?"

 

"Yes,” she admits. Then adds, “He told me not to come back." She would never say the words aloud but this is all the fault of the man at her side. She and Kylo and the twins had been perfectly happy before Snoke had maneuvered her into his bed.   And now her marriage is wrecked and her family is split. And Rey herself feels very used by Snoke and harshly misjudged by Kylo. And that’s why she’s here alone on a bench in Coruscant. She had just wanted to run from it all. "Are you here to tell me to go home?" she grumbles. Rey is not ready to go home just yet, even if she would dearly love to see her twins walking.

 

"No.   I am here to take you back with me. I plan to wake Shan tomorrow and I need your help to heal her."

 

Rey nods slowly. She knew that Darth Plagueis had still more to ask of her, and so long as it’s not hopping into bed with him, she is resigned to it. "I understand," she concedes miserably.   But she knows Kylo won't. He will only see that she has returned to his Master, her lover. And now things will be worse. How she resents the Muun for putting her in this no-win position. “Kylo will be angry,” she dares to whisper.

 

“I will handle my Apprentice.” His tone indicates that this topic is closed. But then he begins to muse, as is his custom.

 

"Power can be very isolating. Over time leadership becomes,” he pauses, “lonely.   People only tell you what they think you want to hear. And more and more what you see and hear is filtered through others. And everyone wants something from you. A favor, a job, a concession or maybe simply to bask in your reflected glory."   Snoke glances meaningfully over at Rey. "Lord Ren will discover this. You will too, Empress.   In time, you will better come to understand why I wish to revive my Shan. And in time Lord Ren will accept things and welcome you back. We shall be a happy family once more."   Again, the old Muun looks her in the eye. "My son loves you quite desperately. He would never want to be without you. Know that this separation is temporary. Few Sith are capable of being solitary for long. It is not in our nature. We are emotional beings. You will be back in his good graces before long.”

 

Snoke seems oblivious to the fact that Rey herself is the one who wants the separation. He’s taking it for granted that she wants to go back to Kylo. Or maybe it just doesn’t matter what she thinks. But Rey does not argue the point. Instead, she quotes her husband’s words repeated more than once. "Sith do not forgive. Sith do not forget."

 

Snoke shrugs this off. "I only ask him to accept. Not to forgive. And, yes, Rey,” he turns to her, “Sith on occasion have forgiven. I recall even my cruel Apprentice Darth Sidious doing it quite spectacularly on one occasion. But until such time, Empress, you shall enjoy my protection. No harm will come to you."

 

“My lord, I will not—I mean, I cannot---that is, please do not expect me to—“ Rey starts stammering out words, trying to find a respectful way to tell Snoke that she won’t go back to his bed again. Rey will fight him tooth and nail and Snoke will have to enchant her with his power. Because if she does end up in his arms again, it’s going to be clear to him and to her own conscience that it was against her will.

 

Snoke must be in her mind because he simply says, “I need your healing power for Shan. Not for myself.”

 

And this information makes Rey exhale with relief. She hadn’t realized that she had been holding her breath. Yes, she will gladly help Shan Damask. After the conversation with Crest Cole, Rey is more curious than ever about Snoke’s Jedi wife. And a revived and healed Shan Damask will give Snoke back the Light he craves. And then, hopefully, he will leave Rey alone and sleep with his own wife.

 

“And my boys?” she asks hopefully.

 

“The little Sith will remain safe at Bast Castle. You may visit them whenever you wish. Now come, my dear," he stands to his feet and holds a hand out to her. Even in this setting, Snoke is a formal, courtly man.

 

Rey looks up and hesitates. There’s something she needs to know to help her make sense of what Kylo had told her. "My lord," she asks slowly. "When you revived me after I was shot, did you sacrifice your own power to do so?"

 

Snoke raises an eyebrow. "Told you, did he?" She nods yes and the Muun is displeased. "This is unexpected and unfortunate."

 

"Unfortunate that I know the truth?" Rey can't keep the bitter edge from her tone.  

 

"Yes. I will not burden you with this knowledge. If you must know, ask Lord Ren this question, Empress. Not I."

 

"I don't understand."

 

"Precisely.” The Supreme Leader’s words are clipped. “You were never supposed to understand."  

 

“Why not?” He doesn’t answer, so she voices her hunch. “It’s why you felt you could use my Light, isn’t it?” Rey persists softly. She’s been thinking of this nonstop since the conversation with Cresta Cole. Because receiving a favor from a Sith puts you forever in their debt. And this, Rey suspects, is how she became indebted to Snoke. “You once gave your power to revive me and that’s why you asked for my Light to restore your power.” She is to replace what she took from Snoke, and then some.

 

Rey has accepted his hand and risen to her feet. She’s looking up and hoping for answers.

 

“Do not pursue this, Empress.” He warns her sternly. She hears his words as well as his heavy suggestion through the Force.  

 

Rey takes the hint and obediently backs down. “Yes, my lord.” She knows the Sith hide many secrets. And, apparently, one involves her.

 

Rey walks out with Snoke. And along the way, someone in the crowd flashes a camera at her. Yes, the Empress has been recognized.   Even in her ponytail and coveralls. Cresta Cole is not the only person who has studied her photographs, it seems.

 

Snoke catches her eye and it surprises her when he laughs. “Better you than me,” he tells her under his breath.


	10. Chapter 10

Healing Shan Damask is a team effort. Chief Healer Smath leads the clinical team of plastic surgeons, orthopedic surgeons, physical therapists and other traditional scientific healers. Rey and Snoke comprise the team of non-conventional methods.

 

Mostly, Smath and his crew focus on Shan's arms and hands. Snoke wants every effort made to save her natural limbs before he will make a decision about prosthetics. Privately, Smath tells Rey that this is a shot in the dark and that had any other patient shown up with her injuries from a lightsaber, he would have gone straight to prosthetics. But this is no usual patient.

 

Rey’s job is to focus on the chest wound. She's done this once before, and it's a little easier this time around. Rey dedicates herself to the task, resisting the sneaking temptation to resent her patient.   Snoke’s wife didn’t ask for any of the wrongdoing committed on her behalf. And for all Rey knows, the former Jedi would be horrified to learn of it.

 

Snoke lurks in the background. The Sith Master is in a near constant meditative state keeping his wife alive in the Force while Rey heals the single, mortal wound.   She knows it is taxing on him, so Rey works around the clock. She spends as long as she can in deep concentration and then takes breaks to focus on the easier task of healing the facial burn.   Kylo might have grown to like his slashing scar, but he's not a woman. So Rey very much wants to smooth and heal the lightsaber burn across Shan's cheek. If only because she knows Snoke's wife is likely to end up with cybernetic arms.   Rey thinks it would be nice if her face were the same as before since the body Shan Damask wakes to will be so changed.

 

Spending so much time alone with an unconscious patient reminds Rey of the burned TIE pilot on the _Finalizer_. And she begins to talk to Shan Damask as she heals, like she had done during those late nights with the pilot.

 

Rey tells her of Jakku. Not the bad stuff. The fun stuff. And here and there, there were good parts. You had to look for them, but they were there. Like sliding down the dunes and exploring the wrecks. Like the majestic desert sunsets and the still beauty of the night sky.  

 

Once, Rey had thought that she would live out her years on that junkyard world. In the Western Reaches of the Outer Rim where life is nasty, brutish and short. Until she found a droid in the desert and for a week the world changed in exciting and terrifying ways. It had been too much, too fast. And she had fled from it all back to Jakku. The last thing she had seen had been General Leia Organa's pursed and disapproving mouth as she watched Rey walk away from destiny.

 

You can't escape your destiny. Snoke had told Rey that had been his wife’s mistake. But Rey understands because she herself had tried too. And for a month, she thought she had succeeded. Until one day, Kylo Ren had appeared at the downed AT-AT she called home.   Once again, he had pulled off his helmet for her, and this time he had revealed an angry red slashing scar. Rey had given him that scar. And here he was, back for revenge. Or so she had thought.

 

But instead, the First Knight had held out his hand and told Rey to come with him.   That they would begin again and together they would work to make things right. Because she had been Awakened in the Force and she needed a teacher. Because he would take her away from her life of suffering and take care of her. Because the New Republic and the Resistance were the real villains who made places like Jakku and orphans like Rey possible.   Because Kylo Ren planned one day to rule the galaxy and he wanted Rey by his side.  He would have no other woman but her.

 

Rey had been two days without food at that point and she was down to her last hydration tablet. And Starkiller or no, Rey had wanted to survive. So she had nodded, taken that black gloved hand, and the rest was history.   Or destiny, as Kylo tells it.

 

Her Sith had followed through on all his promises, whisking her away to picturesque Naboo to a castle fortress steeped in history. To a life with running water and plentiful food. To hours of learning under Milo’s tutelage.   Now Rey wore pretty clothes that garnered admiring glances. Now she was treated with utmost respect. And there was a basement treasure trove of holochrons full of secrets long thought to be lost.   There was a handsome prince from a storied clan who stole kisses and stole her heart. And one night in the moonlight they slashed hands and promised forever.

 

And not war, not torture, not Luke Skywalker nor Leia Organa could tear them apart. It took Snoke to do that.

 

As the hours and the days drag on, the one-sided conversation gets more and more personal. Now it is a soliloquy of Rey's wants and needs, her hopes and fears. All bottled up, as usual, but freely confessed to this unknown woman who is heavily sedated and cannot hear her.

 

Rey tells Shan that she is the most improbable of Empresses, that she is ill equipped for her current life.   That she was grateful for her pregnancy and the twins to shield her from public duties. Because Rey is stiff and stilted at those events.   Uncomfortable being on display and overwhelmed by the many strange faces. Will you help me, Rey asks. She has seen all the holonet pictures and read the profile pieces in the vintage fashion magazines.   She knows Shan Damask was once a social superstar.

 

And you were a mother, Rey tells her. Maybe you can help guide me with the twins. For Rey never had a mother and she doesn't know if she's doing it right. And seeing how much Kylo had grown to hate his own mother, Rey worries that the stakes are high indeed. The Skywalker clan does not have a good history for mothers. So far, they have all ended up dead. Violently killed, each one.

 

Do you ever speak of the Jedi, Rey wonders aloud. Or is it too painful a past to confront? Rey will understand if Shan does not want to talk about it. Rey has her own buried secrets. To this day, even Kylo doesn't know about Unkar Putt. But if Shan is willing to talk, Rey has a lot of questions about the Light and the Jedi. Like all the concepts mentioned in the healing holochrons that Rey doesn't understand. The Jedi Masters speak of these things like they are common knowledge that does not need to be explained, so perhaps they are basic Jedi teachings that are assumed. But now they are lost to time.

 

You will be the Last Jedi now, Rey tells her.   And the only Jedi in recent memory who was truly raised within the Order. Who knows its traditions and disciplines.   And somewhere within all that dogma which the Sith disdain, there must be some truth. You and I are the last remnants of the Light, Rey tells her. At least for now. And it is our challenge to distill it down to its essence and to pass it on. And to sidestep the conflict with Darkness that has dogged it for generations. For when Luke Skywalker fell to Kylo's sword, the Force war ended. There will be no more opposition, Rey tells her, just harmony and balance in service of their Sith. At least, so she hopes.

 

And maybe, if they get to be close friends, one day Shan can give Rey some personal advice.   Maybe Shan can share her secret to reconciling the Snoke she loves with the awful things Snoke does.   Rey is a survivor who has lived through a war, and she knows that there is more grey in life than black and white. Rey of Jakku is no idealist. But some things--like the Starkiller--are just plain wrong.   And the things Snoke has made her do--well, they are wrong too.   Not that Rey will ever share that, of course.  

 

But Lady Plagueis, did you ever feel like you were caught up in a world with few choices?   That with all the privilege of being a Sith's lady came some very harsh drawbacks?   Did you ever bristle at a husband who is controlling and possessive? Who can be overbearing and grandiose? Snoke had been plotting it all when he and Shan had been married. But now Rey and Kylo are living it out.

 

Being Empress is never what Rey would ever have wanted. None of the trappings of status matter to her. For all Rey has ever wanted is a family to call her own. Kylo had promised her this. That they would be the Skywalkers who got it right and had it all. He would win his war and rule his Empire. She would raise their children, curate his holochrons and be his Light. They would be happy together forever in the Force. And for a long time, they had been. But now Rey can't see a way back to that.

 

Kylo is being unfair. This was never her fault.   Rey had never wanted to go to bed with Snoke. But she had done it for her family. And she had made an effort to make the best of it, like Rey does every unpleasant thing in life. But then she wonders about how secretly sometimes she had enjoyed it. How once or twice she had sort of looked forward to it. And then Rey is a confused and guilty mess again.  

 

And every time she looks down at Snoke’s slain wife, Rey thinks of how she once had been this very patient. Only Rey had a blaster wound through her chest and not a lightsaber gouge. And her husband had been so wrapped up in his new Empire that he hadn’t thought it important to tell Rey that she had died. That seems a very lame excuse. But it’s probably true in part. After all, her husband had once left her captive with the Resistance for months while he was off building his Empire.   Rey has no illusions about where she ranks in the scheme of things. Kylo’s ambitions always come first. It’s a Skywalker thing, she thinks. For generations, his clan has placed their ideals before their family.  

 

Still, her conversation in the museum with Snoke made clear that there is more to the story. And Rey is not sure she wants to know. I have a bad feeling about this, Rey tells Snoke’s wife. I have a very bad feeling about all of this.

 

What will become of Rey once Shan Damask is healed?   Will Snoke send her home and make Kylo begrudgingly take her back? With separate bedrooms and cold chilly silences between them. Or will she be cast out on her own, forever separated from her sons? Living life apart the way Kylo's own parents had done for so long.  Sith marriage is forever.   There is no divorce. So maybe Kylo will just kill her so he can find a new, more suitable Empress. Rey sighs. The options are pretty limited for Sith wives.  

 

General Hux once had told Rey not to trust the Sith. And Cresta Cole had warned against sleeping with a Sith. Yes, that was all good advice. Rey wishes someone had told her that beforehand. You get in deep with these men fast, Rey thinks. And then it’s forever, your hand is bleeding and you’re trapped.

 

Milo surreptitiously sends pictures and videos of the children to Rey daily. And though it is comforting, it makes Rey's heart ache and her arms feel empty. It is a hard, hard thing for a mother to be separated from her children. There are days when Rey thinks she will gladly go back to Bast Castle just to be near her boys.

 

Snoke walks up and Rey flushes. She’s not sure for how long he has been standing there listening to her pour out her heart to his comatose wife. Rey climbs stiffly to her feet but the Supreme Leader looks past her. He only has eyes for the patient.

 

He stands there a long time without speaking. Contemplating his unconscious, long dead wife.

 

“I have never done this before,” he confesses softly to Rey. “To wake someone many years after their death.   It will be very jarring for her.”

 

Rey thinks this to be an amazing understatement. For everything and everyone this woman has ever known other than her husband and Milo are long gone. Shan Damask will be a lonely remnant of bygone times.

 

Snoke must be in her head, because he agrees. “Yes. I do not know how Shan will react to the way things have changed after all this time. My life is very different now.” He pauses for a moment before adding, “I am very different now.”

 

Rey thinks of the charismatic man in the party pictures from almost a century ago. Yes, Snoke is a very different man now in his sepulcher audience chamber and his hermit existence. And probably way more alike to his exiled dead nemesis grandson Luke Skywalker than is comfortable to admit. But maybe Shan Damask had seen all of this in the Force decades ago. Perhaps she knew what was to become of her.

 

Again, Snoke is in her head. “It was more burden than boon for my Shan to see the future. To know the truth that was to come but not the context or the details. She saw my son Anakin Skywalker and his wife and she thought she saw herself and our son. And so my Shan tried hard to avoid someone else’s destiny. It all came true in the end, just not for her.”

 

Yes, Rey has heard the tale. Shan Damask got dragged down in the mess of the Skywalker clan long before there were any Skywalkers. And so Rey amends her list of good advice to live by: Never trust a Sith, never fuck a Sith, and run as far as possible from anyone named Skywalker.  

 

“The Force is fickle and tricky like that. Destiny can be a trap for the unwary.” Snoke sighs and for the first time Rey senses how truly anxious the Sith Master is. The hopes and fears of decades will all be realized soon, for better or for worse, when Shan Damask opens her eyes and opens her mouth. Many years after her violent, terrifying death, this woman will wake to live in a future she had glimpsed in the Force and woefully misunderstood.

 

And so Rey asks the obvious question. She tries to sound more compassionate than skeptical. “Do you ever wonder if you shouldn’t do this?”

 

“No.” He responds without hesitation. Then Snoke turns his attention to Rey. He has a request. “Will you be her friend? She will need a friend.”

 

Rey wavers, unsure how to respond. How can you befriend a woman whose husband you have slept with?

 

Snoke understands, of course. Or maybe he’s in her head again. “There will be no awkwardness between you,” he assures Rey. “She will never know what transpired between us. It would only hurt her if she knew.”

 

Rey nods. But she thinks of the open doorway at Bast when she and Kylo had argued, and Rey knows that there are some who will guess the truth of the matter. People always talk.

 

Snoke is not concerned. “I will kill anyone who gossips. I will allow no one to question your honor, Empress. Your commitment to our family is examplary. And no one will upset my wife with this tale. It is done now,” he assures her. “It is the past.”

 

Again, Rey nods. Yes, it is the past. She and Kylo have to find a way to put it behind them.

 

“I have an apartment on Coruscant that I have owned for many years,” Snoke tells her. “It has been refurbished in anticipation of waking her. It was a place Shan knew well.   And in the absence of an Imperial Palace, we will need a secure reception area on the capital. If you wish, Empress, you may stay there once Shan is awake. Lord Ren will not bother you there.”

 

“So you will permit us to live apart?” Rey had expected to be ordered back to Bast Castle soon. Her tone betrays her surprise.

 

“If you wish. We will not publicly acknowledge a separation. You will appear as Empress when requested to do so and you will act and speak appropriately.   On Coruscant, you will keep a low profile and follow the directions of your security detail in all things. And,” the Muun fixes Rey with a meaningful look, “You will not consort with another man.”

 

This last condition is more than a little ironic given that the only other man Rey has consorted with is Snoke himself.

 

“What about my boys?” Rey wants to know. Will he let her take her children?

 

No. “The little Ren shall remain at Bast Castle. You may see the children whenever you wish. My Apprentice will not prevent you.”

 

This is unexpectedly generous, all in all, and Rey hastens to accept. “Thank you, my lord. I would like to live on Coruscant.”

 

Looking back now at the patient, Rey asks, “Will she have the Force when she wakes?” Rey has wondered this.

 

“I do not know,” Snoke answers. He is silent for a moment. “I do not care.”

 

And maybe it’s because Rey is so tired or maybe because she is so sad, but his words suddenly make her want to cry. For this obsessive Sith wants his wife alive for herself, and not for her Force. And that strikes Rey as a true expression of love from a man whose life has been devoted to the pursuit of power. Yes, Snoke loves his Shan more than he loves power, Rey thinks, for he is willing to sacrifice some of his own power for her. For a Sith, that must be true love.

 

“It has been lonely without her,” Snoke says quietly. And there is much left unsaid behind these words. Standing beside the Muun Sith Rey understands. Oh, how she understands Darth Plagueis in this. For Rey of Jakku has known the bitter sting of loneliness. She had thought it to be behind her forever, but now she’s not so sure.

 

“Thank you, Empress.” Snokes tells her this as he stares at the unconscious figure of his wife. “No matter what happens when she awakes, I am forever grateful. No one else could do this but you.”

 

Rey says nothing.   She just thinks of the great personal cost to her and Kylo that came with reviving this woman.  

 

“Get some rest, Empress.” Rey hears this command for the dismissal that it is. Snoke wants to be alone with his beloved.

 

So Rey trudges back to the small officer’s quarters she now calls home. By habit, she checks her datapad before she crawls into bed. There are more cute pictures of Bane and Hego from Milo, of course. But there is a message waiting from Kylo too. Rey stares at the unopened message for a minute before she opens it.

 

_Is he abusing you? Tell me the truth._

 

The time and date stamp on the message shows that it had been sent from Bast in the middle of the night Naboo time. It’s the first Rey has heard from her husband since that awful fight in the hallway weeks ago.

 

Rey writes back.   _No. He leaves me alone._ As she moves to power down the datapad and set it aside, a reply message pops up.   Wherever he is, Kylo is on his datapad, as usual.

 

_You don’t have to lie for him. I do not blame you, Rey. I blame him._

 

Maybe that’s progress given that Kylo had utterly destroyed their bedroom in his rage. Because it had sure looked like he was blaming her. And he had sure sounded like he was blaming her, at least in part. But Rey is tired and she doesn’t want to rehash this now. She puts down the datapad and goes to sleep.

 


	11. Chapter 11

Once more, Kylo pulls up the candid picture of Rey that went viral on the holonet weeks ago. Is this our Empress? There are silly opinion polls and comment pages devoted to the topic. Kylo hadn’t known that there was so much public interest in his wife. Rey has been in public only a handful of times and it seems that the entire galaxy is clamoring for more of their mysterious First Lady.  

 

But the entire holonet has missed the forest for the trees where this picture is concerned. For the real intrigue in the photograph is not Lady Rey sporting a ponytail and rumpled jumpsuit in a museum.   It’s the man at her side only partially shown in the picture and mistaken for a bodyguard.   The Muun Sith Supreme Leader himself has gone completely unnoticed by all his loyal subjects.

 

Kylo has no doubt that his Master has seen this picture. And no doubt that he had laughed out loud at the absurdity of it all.

 

Seeing his Master on Coruscant with Rey only makes Kylo angry. Not a day after quizzing Kylo about retrieving his wife, Snoke himself had gone to do so. The reclusive Supreme Leader who Kylo has rarely known ever to leave his hidden stronghold fortress had ventured into public in the very heart of the galaxy. He did not send a squad of troopers. No, Snoke had valued Rey so much that he had gone himself. And that makes Kylo feel like a complete ass. He’s kicking himself for not having run after Rey that very night. Hell, he might have tackled her before she ever made it out the door at Bast. But at the very least, he should have chased her. Nestor Ren says women always want to be chased.

 

Kylo grunts and turns off his datapad. He’s hoping never to see that picture again.

And he refuses to miss her.   Not the singsong way she greets the boys in the morning. Not the way she always has to check on the twins one last time before she and Kylo go to bed.

 

Not the way she persists in eating rations for breakfast like she's still on Jakku. Not the way she knows almost every stormtrooper at his castle by name.

 

And definitely not the way she rolls her eyes, tosses her head and cocks her chin when she's annoyed at something. Usually, him.

 

No, he does not miss her. Not anything about her.

 

Not the way she snuggles up against him in bed during the night without knowing it. Not the way she can get him out of his uniform in record time with just a come hither look. Not the way every now and then she coyly asks him to leave his mask on in bed and calls him her Sith.

 

He definitely does not miss her. And he doesn’t want her back. Really, he wouldn’t take her back. Not now that she’s living at his Master’s stronghold ostensibly Force healing his dead wife all day. Kylo doesn’t even want to think about what she’s doing at night.  


No, he wouldn’t take her back. Well, maybe if she begged. But she’s not going to do that.   And neither is he.

 

Kylo knows that Rey sneaks back to Bast to see the twins on the days when he is gone from his castle. She probably coordinates it with Milo in advance. Kylo is fine with this. It doesn't matter if she comes, so long as he doesn't have to see her.

 

But one morning he lingers hours too late at home to deal with a crisis. Then he decides to check in on his kids before he leaves for a week in the Outer Rim.   He's awkwardly patting Bane on the head when Kylo senses Rey in the Force. And the twins do too. Because of course they would know their mother. She has that unmistakable Force imprint that once had led Luke Skywalker straight to her.

 

Even after years together, Rey’s Force imprint is like a siren’s call to Kylo’s mind. And it arrests him. He stands there a moment overcome by her unconscious lure. It calls to him, and he longs for it. And just for a moment, he revels in it.

 

Now his boys are clapping their chubby hands and shrieking with joy. Daddy is forgotten and they are half running, half crawling down the hallway to the main entrance as fast as their little legs can take them.   Kylo follows but then hangs back to watch. He sees Rey burst in to catch each boy in her arms for a big smacking kiss and a lot of fuss.   Milo follows her in at his more sedate pace and looks on like a proud grandpa. Yes, Snoke's old manservant is most definitely an accomplice.

 

All this whooping happiness is painful to watch. Because this is not how it's supposed to be. He and Rey were going to be the couple who had it all and got it right. They would be the Skywalkers who stayed together and raised their children as a family. He and his Master would teach his sons the Dark and she would teach them the Light. Passing on the very best of both traditions and all of the combined power. And always they would fight on the same side, wanting the same things.

 

For never again would the Skywalker family be ripped apart by ideology, ambition or circumstance. That all had ended once he and Rey had joined hands and pledged as Sith together forever in the Force. And the little girl abandoned by her family and the confused boy born to a legacy of dysfunction were going to get the wholesome normal private life they each craved. Or, as close as you can get to that when you’re the Skywalker Siths who rule the galaxy.

 

But that’s all falling apart now. He and Rey are living separate lives and she’s with his Master now. No doubt doing all sorts of sordid things in Snoke’s bed when she’s not healing that bride of Frankenstein wife of his. Kylo scowls at the thought. Not for a minute had he believed his wife’s message. Either she is lying to protect him or she is lying to protect Snoke. But it has to be a lie.   There’s no way randy old Darth Plagueis is keeping his hands off Rey.

 

He watches from afar as Rey settles a boy on each hip and strides forward towards him unaware that she is being watched.   But then she looks up, sees him and freezes. Kylo feels her surprise and, yes, her guilt radiate at him through the Force. Yes, it’s as he had feared. Rey had lied to him. She’s feeling guilty because she lied to him and she’s still sleeping with Snoke.

 

They stand there, eyes locked in silence. Then Kylo turns on heel and walks away. He has nothing to say to her.

 

Days later he’s still on that weeklong trip to the Outer Rim, deep in hyperspace in the Western Reaches, when the thought occurs to him. Yes, this is long overdue, Kylo thinks. His Master had told him to do this years ago but he had never made the time. Well, today is the day. Kylo gives the order to shift course and to land the shuttle at the Niima Outpost on Jakku.

 

Everyone is wondering the reason for the unscheduled stop. No one goes to this backwards Hellhole without a good reason. “Are we meeting someone?” a dubious assistant asks.

 

“No, we are killing someone.” Kylo thinks a moment and then corrects himself. “I am killing someone.   Make sure there are cameras. We're sending this to PR.”

 

While Kylo is stuck finishing a com on the shuttle, his men locate this Unkar Plutt person his Master had told him about years ago when first Snoke had met Rey. Soon enough, the trembling Crolute junk boss awaits the Emperor’s attention surrounded by a squad of troopers. A small crowd of bedraggled onlookers gathers. All in all, Kylo thinks cynically as he descends the shuttle ramp, the stage is well set for what he’s about to do. The First Order is known for its political theatre, after all.   He will do Hux proud today.

 

In a swirl of wind-whipped black robes, the masked ruler of the galaxy strides up to the prisoner. He eschews any preamble. Kylo Ren is a man of action, not words. For his opening salvo, the Sith prince ignites his famous laser sword. It is gratifying to see Plutt flinch and cower at the sound.

 

Kylo stands in silence, taking in the man who had the power of life and death over his wife for so many years. Behind the mask, his eyes linger on the meaty fists and forearms of the brute. Their size is in stark contrast to the scrawny, twig like frame of the starved scavenger girl the First Order had captured years ago. Those fists and no doubt other things had landed hard on Rey’s back for years. And while the deep indentations and lacerations that once scarred her skin are long gone, Kylo is certain that the memories of her beatings at the hands of this man are not.

 

So today this Sith will give his lady vengeance. And the Emperor will make a statement to galaxy at large. His violence will have multiple purposes and will be rationally defensible. Snoke should be pleased.

 

“Do you remember a girl sold to you by spicers as a small child?” Kylo demands. “A girl you starved, cheated and beat repeatedly for years?”

 

“Rey?” The Crolute exhales his beloved’s name in surprise and confusion. “This is about Rey?” Whatever misdeeds this lout fears the First Order for, clearly they had not included Rey.   Well, good.   Kylo Ren will deliver justice today on multiple fronts.

 

“Yes, Rey,” Kylo answers curtly. He begins to circle the junk boss now with slow, methodical steps. His lit sword is blazing in his hand, ready to strike. “Tell me about the girl Rey.”

 

“She was a scavenger. And a thief,” the man sputters out. His eyes are tracking the tip of Kylo’s sword anxiously. “She stole my ship!”

 

“What ship?”

 

“The Millennium Falcon.”

 

“Who owns the Millennium Falcon?” Kylo asks, as if perhaps he has misheard.

 

“I do.”

 

This brash claim to ownership makes Kylo smile grimly behind his mask. “Wrong. The smuggler Han Solo owned the Millennium Falcon. It was stolen from him years ago. And you stole it from those who stole it first. You were the second in a line of thieves, Unkar Plutt.”

 

But the junk boss won’t concede. “She stole my ship!” he maintains and then slyly adds, “She was running from the First Order at the time.”

 

“Wrong. If anyone owns the Millennium Falcon, I do,” Kylo decrees cryptically. Let the holonet chew on that one, he thinks to himself. “And the girl was running to the First Order for help. To get away from you,” he lies.

 

Kylo stops in front of Plutt now and nods to the troopers who flank him. They know what to do. As they press the Crolute down on his knees and step back, Plutt’s eyes go wide. Yes, Jakku’s chief brute knows what’s coming. And it’s been a long time coming, as far as Kylo is concerned.

 

“You and your kind are the scourge of the Rim,” Emperor Ren announces coldly. “The crime bosses, the swindlers, the smugglers, the slumlords, the petty criminals who prey on honest people and hinder opportunity. Who line their pockets with stolen funds meant for development, who skim protection money off hardworking citizens, who impede progress and legitimate business activity with their entrenched graft.”

 

Raising his sword to the prisoner’s throat, the Emperor pronounces his sentence. And, yes, the litany of charges might not strictly apply to this particular wretch, but it’s all the same as far as Kylo is concerned. He’s making an example, not litigating a case.

 

“Unkar Plutt, this is justice for every orphan child who grew up hungry and uneducated in squalor in the Rim. For every desperate family fleeced by thugs and kept down by poverty.   For all the honest people who worked hard but could not get ahead because only crime pays.   What began with the Old Republic ends now with my Empire. Your day is done. No longer will good people tolerate lawlessness and corruption as a way of life.”

 

The junk boss is blubbering now and begging on his hands and knees in the sand. “Mercy! Mercy, I beg you!”

 

But Emperor Ren is unmoved. He came here to kill, and kill he shall. “By rights, you should die slowly. You should suffer for the years of pain you and your kind have caused. But today I will give you a quick, clean death. Others will not be so lucky. Now get up,” Kylo sneers at him. “Take this like a man.”

 

The Crolute ceases and sits up on his knees. “What happened to the girl?” he asks, suddenly and belatedly curious as to why the Emperor of the galaxy is interested in an orphan scavenger on Jakku.

 

“I married her,” Kylo reveals. He enjoys watching the stunned look on Plutt’s face and the shocked reaction from the crowd.   He lets this news sink in for a few seconds before he takes off the prisoner’s head with one stylish twirling swing.

 

"So end all enemies of the Empire," he announces to cheers.  

 

The footage is edited and released to go viral on the holonet. For nothing stokes the public’s lurid interest like a stylized, well produced execution holovid. The First Order has long championed law and order in the Rim Worlds, so the content itself shouldn’t be surprising. But this time the galaxy finds it utterly compelling. For the context of the Emperor’s brief, impassioned speech fascinates. It is both a shock and a welcome surprise to learn that the great Kylo Ren married a downtrodden Rim dweller, to learn that the Empress herself is an authentic victim of the empty promises of the New Republic. Yes, the man walks the walk and talks the talk, the chattering classes agree. The media talking heads now praise the young Emperor as a man of sincere values and integrity. He’s not the power hungry despot those Resistance terrorists complain him to be. He’s a true reformer at heart, poised to deliver on the promises of the First Order.

 

Snoke laughs and asks if he will promise a chicken in every pot for his next speech. Then he tells Kylo that was a political stunt worthy of his mother.   And he means it as praise.

 

Rey watches the clip with a mix of pride, horror and disgust. Her secret is out and perhaps that’s a relief.   Trust it to the First Order to find a way to get political mileage out of Rey’s hardscrabble Jakku background.   Now Kylo Ren is empowered by his connection to the powerless, celebrated for his mésalliance with Les Miserables, and bolstered by the basket of deplorables who self-identify with Unkar Plutt’s victims. All in all, it’s a big win for everyone but Plutt.

 

And it is a strange turn of events for Alderaan's aristocratic Sith prince to become the Robin Hood folk hero of the Rim. For who knew that the man who brought us the Starkiller would lead the populist rallying cry for reform? His anti-crime manifesto such an ironic posture for the secret son of one of the galaxy's most famous smugglers. Yes, it’s a bizarre mix of sincerity and opportunism but Kylo Ren thinks his grandfather the slave boy from Outer Rim Tatooine would approve.

 

And it is with Darth Vader weighing heavily on his mind that the Emperor orders his shuttle to make an unscheduled stop at the ships graveyard. Kylo Ren is not yet ready to leave the wasteland Jakku.

 

Alone he walks unmasked in the desert twilight. Seeing firsthand the wreckage of his grandfather's glorious Imperial Navy decayed and bleached for decades now in the uncaring sun. Rey has described it all to him, but no mere words can capture the true feel of this place. Especially to a Skywalker.

 

This was the last stand of a valiant lost cause, a Marathon, a Thermopylae, an Actium. Here downed ships and mummified corpses bear witness to the decisive defeat of a Waterloo, a Yorktown, a Hastings.   Above these shifting sands commenced the beginning of the end like at Amiens, at Stalingrad, at Hiroshima.   Yes, Kylo thinks as he takes it all in, here the course of history changed.

 

There is much wisdom to be gleaned from this graveyard world. But foremost in his mind is that an empire will fall without unified leadership. It was little more than a year after Vader turned on Sidious when it all had crumbled at the Battle of Jakku. The Apprentice had turned on his Master and won. But still lost in the end. And so Kylo Ren wonders which is his bigger risk: attempting to kill his Master or succeeding in killing his Master.   This has been his food for thought for many days now.

 

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown. For here on Jakku strewn at the feet of the Second Emperor is the failure of the First Empire. And that is the true meaning of this place, Kylo Ren decides: failure.

 

Skywalkers have never lacked for vision. It is in the implementation that his grandfather and his mother faltered. And his uncle? Well, his uncle had given up early and ran to exile. Luke Skywalker had not so much failed as he had quit. Such a contrast the Last Jedi had been to his twin sister. For the tenacious Leia Organa had never known when to quit.

 

More and more, it worries Kylo that his family’s legacy is not victory but failure. And that Kylo will indeed finish what his grandfather started when he tossed Darth Sidious down the reactor shaft. That if he kills his Master, Kylo too will throw it all away. And that will culminate in the collapse of yet another Skywalker Sith Empire and more years of war. And then the Skywalker name will be infamous and not glorious. A family of damned fools who started idealistic crusades they never finished. A line of disappointing prodigies who tried too hard and did too little. For Jedi or Sith, they each had failed.

 

Snoke is right that he has much to learn about governing. And privately, Kylo will admit that he needs his Master desperately. Ironically, it is not the mysteries of Dark power he craves, but more pragmatic and mundane skills. For it might take a ruthless Sith lord to win a galactic empire, but it doesn't take one to govern. It takes a shrewd statesman. And Kylo Ren is many things, but he is not that. And, more and more he suspects that Snoke is.  

 

And Kylo is not his Master. He does not have extra lifetimes for second chances. His time is now.  It’s step up or step aside, he knows.

 

But Gods! How this situation galls him. It goes against his every instinct to let the conflict lie fallow. To suck up his pride, to swallow his outrage, and to dampen his rage. These are not easy tasks for a cuckold Sith.  But they are necessary if Kylo is to continue in his role as Apprentice.

 

Will Rey ever understand his decision not to avenge her treatment? Will she see this as Kylo choosing power over her? In a way, he is. But even the selfish Kylo Ren can see that the best hope for all in the galaxy now is for him to succeed.

 

And that success will be necessary for historians to justify the deaths of trillions in the years since the Old Republic fell. He's a Sith so the ends always justify the means. But here's the catch--you have to achieve the ends. And the ends keep changing, the stakes are higher and the task harder. The war is won, his Empire is built but now it needs to thrive and to endure. So it will matter. So he will matter.

 

Please let it not all be in vain.

 

Now and forever may the Sith rule the galaxy. And may they be the Skywalker Siths. The enlightened masters of the Shadow Force, the harbingers of balance descended from the Chosen One as long foretold, nurtured into Darkness at the knee of their revered eternal patriarch. The wily betrayer, the Sith for all ages and a man for all seasons, Darth Plagueis the Wise.

 

As he makes his way back to the waiting shuttle, Kylo’s mind is made up. He will again be the loyal Apprentice he once was. No more will he plot to kill the Muun. For his own sake, for his sons' sake, and for the sake of the galaxy.  So the Emperor dusts himself off, shaking away the ghosts of the past along with the clingy Jakku sand. Hoping against hope that the one woman he has ever cared for will understand.

 

Kylo Ren knows he is a Sith through and through, and he has a secret dead son to prove it. So he does not forgive and he does not forget. But, in this case, he will accept what he cannot change and move on. And as soon as his Master’s corpse wife is healed and alive, he will collect his own wife and take her home where she belongs.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was too long and was split into two chapters (10 & 11). Hence the double posting tonight. Happy reading! No updates for a few days now most likely.


	12. Chapter 12

The Apprentice has been summoned, and so he has come. But first he had asked why. This is a characteristic habit of his Master, for the Muun is ever a slave to logic. A man more cold than hot in his nature, calculating and rarely impulsive. So unlike his Emperor Apprentice. And so Kylo had enjoyed turning the tables for once.

 

Darth Plagueis had not hesitated in his rejoinder. If anything, he had looked offended by the question. Because we are a family, his Master had informed Kylo, and you will be here as we welcome back one of our own.

 

They are a family in a way, Kylo sees this. The Skywalker Muun patriarch and what remains of his dysfunctional human brood. The Chosen One dead on a Death Star, sacrificed for the son who had rejected him. Then the son dead to his own nephew. And the daughter fallen too. Then the cycle had flipped and this time a son had been sacrificed by the father.  Four generations of the Force, four generations of death. His Master’s betrayal is just the latest in a long line of familial transgressions.  

 

And along the way, always the Skywalkers had lost those closest to them.   Vader lost his Padme, Leia lost her Han, Kylo himself had once lost his Rey. And Plagueis even had lost his Shan. For the Skywalkers ever have killed their own. And even those who they have not killed have suffered all the same. Ambition, conflict, betrayal--this is what it means to be a Skywalker, he thinks.   Resurrections are fast becoming their new family tradition.  

 

So dutifully Kylo stands there pretending to care about the awakening of his great-step-grandmother in the Force, or whatever the nonexistent relationship is. If nothing else, the young Emperor thinks, maybe today will reveal more of his Master’s mysterious past. And as soon as they are done, he’s leaving with Rey. Rey is the real reason he’s here.  

 

Today Kylo will take her home and tonight they will work things out. Tomorrow, they will begin anew.

 

So bored and impatient, Kylo stares through the two-way mirror at the Muun woman lying asleep on the gurney on the far side. He keeps his attention overtly focused on the patient, even as he takes covert peeks from behind his mask at Rey silently standing next to him. Kylo can’t help but notice how tired his wife looks, how drab in her oversize medic’s scrubs and ponytail. And how sad. When he walked in, Rey had looked surprised and for a moment actually happy. But then Kylo had realized that her cheerful smile was for Milo following in his wake and not for himself. And while it wasn’t precisely a rejection, it had felt that way. It's been weeks since he has laid eyes on Rey and months now since that ugly confrontation at Bast. There is much left unsaid between them. Which makes Kylo anxious to get this over with.

 

Rey stands at his side now, where she belongs. But she might as well be lightyears away. And she seems nervous. Kylo isn’t sure if this is because of him or because of the awakening that is about to occur.  

 

He feels like he should say something to fill the silence, so he does. “What happened to her hands and arms?”

 

“Darth Sidious cut them off,” Rey says softly.

 

And Kylo can’t resist the sarcastic reply, “How very Skywalker.”

 

She shoots him a look and old Milo even glares at him. So the petty Sith Apprentice with the bad attitude shuts up for now.

 

His Master is in the small medical room on the other side of the glass with Chief Healer Smath. Snoke nods to the healer and the stim shot is administered to the sleeping woman.

 

And now Kylo shifts his attention to his Master. The old Muun no longer looks old. He’s clearly frozen in time in his middle years, really in his prime. Ten or fifteen years Kylo’s senior at most. And he looks frustratingly healthy and fit even to young eyes. But just now, he looks very, very nervous. And seeing that vulnerability in a man so fearsome is unexpected. Never once has Kylo known his Master to be uncertain or insecure. Rarely does the abstract Muun betray much emotion of any kind. But now, in the moments before his long dead wife is awakened, Darth Plagueis the Wise, Dark lord of the Sith looks . . . scared.

 

And Kylo understands. Because once he had been in his Master’s position.

 

Kylo can’t decide if he wants this to work or not. If his Master gets his wife back, then surely there will be no need for him to use Rey for her Light. But part of him wants this to fail so that Snoke will suffer. Maybe Kylo can’t and won’t kill Snoke. But still he wants Snoke to suffer. His Master deserves to suffer. And Kylo is quite prepared to hate this Shan wife of his too. The woman for whom Snoke had torn his family apart and threatened his children.

 

The woman’s eyes flutter open and there is silence for a long moment as she focuses on the Muun standing above her. “Snoke?” The sound is a croaky, hoarse whisper. Then louder now through the intercom link between the rooms. “Snoke?” The woman is confused. “Is this a vision?”

 

His Master’s voice too sounds hoarse. “No, Shan. This is real. I am real. You are real.” The Muun lays a hand on her shoulder, looking tentative and afraid to touch her.   So unlike his commanding self.

 

“Snoke? Oh, Snoke! You're alive!” The woman bolts upright. She’s staring down at her still bandaged arms and hands. Raising her limbs up to look at them. Then her eyes close and her mind reboots. This woman has a strong connection to the Force. So Kylo feels her utter panic and intense pain as she relives the moments of her passing. It’s like a small shockwave to his mind. Kylo Ren has felt many people become one with the Force, so this doesn’t trouble him. He is long accustomed to the feel of violent death. But beside him, Rey shudders.

 

“I thought that he would kill me.” The woman looks up now to Snoke. “And kill you.”

 

“He did. Shan, he killed you.” Kylo sees Snoke visibly swallow. “You have been dead a long time, my dear. Too long.”

 

“Dead.” She breathes out this word more than says it. Then repeats it. “Dead. I was dead. You brought me back? Like Milo?”

 

“Yes.” Snoke is staring at his wife like she’s a ghost. He is wide eyed and transfixed, as if fearing to blink lest she disappear. Truly, the Muun looks utterly terrified. And that’s sort of gratifying.

 

“And Sidious?” The woman is looking around now, as if she expects old Palpatine to leap out at her at any moment. “Where is Sidious?”

 

“Dead.”

 

“I never liked Sheev Palpatine.” Snoke’s wife says this mild comment as if it were the worst insult she could think of. And Snoke’s deadpan reply makes Kylo smirk behind his mask.

 

“It turns out you were right in the end.”

 

“Where is Caar?” she asks. Kylo has no idea who she’s talking about.

 

Snoke hesitates before answering softly. “Shan, our son is dead. Sidious killed him.”

 

Beside Kylo, Rey sighs in sympathy for this news. And on the other side of the window, Snoke’s wife looks away and is quiet a long moment. “D-dead?”

 

“Yes. He could not be revived, Shan. I am sorry.”

 

She nods blankly at this. Still processing the news. After a pause, she asks, “And your Jedi son? The Skywalker boy?”   Kylo’s ears perk up now.

 

“He was Sith in the end, Shan. Just like in your visions.”

  

“He lives?”

 

Snoke shakes his head no. “Dead. He died saving his own boy from Sidious.”

 

“So you have a grandson?” The woman is trying to make sense of it all. And, really, it’s a complicated history all in all, Kylo thinks. Trust it to old Darth Plagueis to wake his wife from the dead only to begin talking Sith genealogy.

 

“No longer. A great grandson. And two great-great grandsons.”

 

Then suddenly, unexpectedly, the woman laughs a little. Smiles a little. She’s actually kind of pretty, Kylo observes. “That's a lot of Skywalker Siths.”

 

“One died a Jedi,” Snoke admits with a sigh.

 

His wife looks at him amazed. “You let that happen?” She’s almost chiding Snoke and damn if Kylo doesn’t smile despite himself. Never once has he seen anyone speak to his Master in that tone.

 

Snoke sighs again and grumbles, “It happened.” And Kylo has to stop himself from laughing out loud at his Master’s rueful expression.   Snoke must feel as though he owes his wife an explanation because he tells her, “His father and I tried. We plotted, Shan. Oh, how Vader and I plotted for him.” And Kylo wants to know more of that story.

 

The woman’s eyes narrow. “That's four generations. H-how long have I been dead?”

 

Snoke tells her.  His wife is thoughtful for a minute. Then she inhales a deep, somewhat ragged breath. Finally, she looks up into her husband’s eyes and smiles. “What took you so long?” she teases. Yes, she actually teases Darth Plagueis. Kylo’s jaw drops.

 

“I think I’m going to like her,” Rey says aloud beside Kylo. And really, it’s an incredibly magnanimous thing to say. How could Rey possibly like this woman who has been the cause of so much pain for them?

 

Snoke too is laughing now and grinning ear to ear. “It is a good thing that you like history, Shan. You have some studying to do.”

 

“Oh, look at you,” the woman reaches a bandaged hand up to stroke at his Master’s face. “You are changed a little but you are still a handsome devil.”

 

Something about his Master’s posture seems to relax at these words. “Truly?” And for the first time, Kylo realizes that his Master had been self-conscious about his deformities. They are so miraculously improved compared to the past that Kylo barely notices them any longer. But they must be very evident to a wife seeing them for the first time.

  

“Oh, yes,” the Muun woman says softly. Then adds, “If you can love me without the Force, I can love you without an ear.” She gives Snoke a sideways look. “You never listened to me anyway.”

 

Kylo stifles a snort at this remark.

 

“Yes,” Shan Damask is still gazing adoringly up at his Muun Master. “You’re a handsome devil, Hego Damask.”

 

“Still Sith,” Snoke confirms, grinning wickedly. And this makes Missus Snoke chuckle.

 

“Yes, I’m going to like her,” Rey announces again at Kylo’s side. He says nothing. Really, it’s uncomfortable to watch this. Snoke and his dead wifey are so wrapped up in each other that it’s making Kylo feel like an interloper. And it just reminds him of how distant he and Rey are now.

 

“Is Milo still here?” Shan Damask asks.

 

“Yes.” Snoke turns to the window and waves the old manservant inside the room.

 

“Milo!” Shan Damask looks absolutely delighted to see the old retainer. Which makes Kylo wonder how old Milo truly is.

 

“Madame.” Milo bows formally as if he were being presented to a queen.

 

But she beckons him closer. “Come here and hug me Milo!” Kylo’s castlekeeper turns red but rushes to comply.   He needs no further invitation.

 

And Snoke is chortling over this. “Stop! You are terrifying him, Shan. This is far beneath his dignity.” But Milo doesn’t look the least bit upset. And all this happy togetherness is annoying, Kylo sulks.

 

“Are we in Muunilinst?”

 

“No, my dear.”

 

Her eyes widen. “Was it destroyed?”

 

“It changed hands in the Clone Wars but it still stands,” Snoke tells her. “Your visions all came true, my dear.”   His Master looks ready to burst with pride at this news. As if Force visions were an important skill, which they’re not. Even the Jedi mostly thought they were a waste of time.  

 

“So . . . Alderraan?” the patient asks tentatively.

 

“Gone.” Missus Snoke raises an eyebrow and glares at Snoke accusingly.

 

“That was Sidious,” he protests.

 

“And Hosnia?” she follows up.

 

“Gone.”

 

Shan Damask doesn’t miss the absence of a denial from Snoke. “Was that you?” she complains.

 

“It was necessary,” Snoke tells her gravely.

 

“And the two Republics?” she asks.

 

“Are both fallen into history.”

 

“And all those wars came to pass?”

 

He nods. She fixes him with a hard look.  And now again, Darth Plagueis is making excuses. Who knew the old Muun was so damned whipped by his wife? “It was necessary. And I only started two of them.”

 

“The Order?”

 

“Long gone. There are no more Jedi.”

 

“Just me, you mean.”

 

“Yes,” Snoke grins at this. “The lousy padawan who barely passed her trials and fell asleep at meditation.” Truly, the Muun can’t stop smiling and that is bizarre. And so out of character.

 

“Are you still banking?” Shan Damask wants to know.

 

Snoke shakes his head no. “Not for decades now.”

 

“And Damask Holdings?”

 

“I sold it long ago for a tidy profit.”

 

Snoke’s wife furrows her brow. “So . . . are you in exile?”

 

“I was for a bit.” Kylo smirks as Snoke glosses over about fifty years. “But no longer.” Snoke looks like an overgrown mischievous boy, Kylo thinks. His Master is enjoying this guessing game. Even with his wife, Kylo sees, the Muun is reluctant to give up his secrets. How typical.

 

“So . . . “ Shan Damask gives her husband a knowing look. “What are you up to? I know you. You get bored very easily. You're plotting something, aren't you?”

 

“Of course.” His Master turns to the window and beckons to Kylo and Rey. And dutifully they enter. Kylo crosses his arms and stands wide doing his best Sith posturing. That is, until Snoke shoots him a reproving look and Kylo obediently removes his mask.

 

Snoke gestures to him.  “My dear, meet my Apprentice Lord Ren.”

 

Shan Damask looks him over and her gaze lingers on his helmet. “Old school,” she remarks softly with a questioning glance to Snoke. And it seems that this woman somehow recognizes him, for she turns back to Snoke as she places Kylo. “This is the boy from the temple!” She clasps her bandaged hands together like a happy child. “I recognize him. Your Jedi apprentice is all grown up and a man!” She gives Kylo an approving look and tells him, “You must have been very persuasive. My husband always said he would never take a Jedi for an Apprentice.”

 

Kylo hasn’t considered himself to be a Jedi for over twenty years and he doesn’t like the reminder of his past. So he nods and keeps quiet. Really, he has nothing to say to this woman anyway.

 

“May I?” she asks with an open palm.

 

Kylo is confused by what she means until his lightsaber flies from his waist into her open hands.

 

“I watched you build this in the temple on Naboo in a vision,” she begins, turning the saber over in her bandaged hands.  

 

But Snoke interrupts. “Shan!”

 

She ignores him. She ignores Snoke! Again, Kylo is surprised at this boldness. He watches as Missus Snoke ignites his saber and frowns at the blade. “You need a new crystal.” Then she turns off the sword and looks askance at the exposed wires on its hilt.  

 

“Shan!”

 

Kylo doesn’t hide his frown. It’s annoying to watch a Jedi throw shade on his sword. The damn thing kills people just fine as it is.

 

“Shan, you used the Force!” Snoke is as animated as Kylo has ever seen. “Do it again!” he commands. “Do it!” And his wife complies, floating the saber hilt back to Kylo’s palm.

 

Shan Damask is looking slightly incredulous at her power. “Wow! Well, I suppose I am born again truly. Eat your heart out, Master Yoda!” she chuckles.

 

Snoke throws his head back and laughs. And, really, it’s unbecoming for a Sith Master to look so damned jolly, Kylo thinks. Darth Bane is surely rolling over in his tomb right now at this affront to Darkness. “Too late, my dear. Too late. Master Yoda is long dead.”

 

“Did you kill him?” Shan Damask asks hopefully.

 

“Old age killed him,” Kylo volunteers dryly.

  

And that recalls Kylo to his Master’s attention. “Lord Ren is the Emperor now,” Snoke reveals.

 

“You two rule an empire?” Shan Damask looks from Kylo to Snoke and then back at Kylo.

 

“We rule the galaxy, my dear.”

 

Shan Damask blinks at this news. “Truly? You really did it?”

 

“Now and forever, my dear—“

 

“The Sith shall rule the galaxy,” she finishes for him.   “Oh, I wish Caar could have seen this.”

 

And her words put an instant damper on Snoke’s delight. “He did not suffer, Shan. It was instant.” After an awkward pause, he speaks. “I have something for you.” Snoke reaches into his robes and pulls out a lightsaber. It looks very generic, Kylo notes. Nothing special.

 

Shan sucks in a breath and reaches for it. “Where did you find it?”

 

“It was in my son's collection. I recognized it immediately.”

  

She pauses. “I never thought I would see this again after—“ Her voice trails off into memories.

 

“Lord Ren has the holochrons. My son collected them as well.”

 

This gets her attention. “All of them?”

 

“No, but a great many. You will have to tell us what's missing.”

 

Shan Damask gives her husband a wry smile. “So all these years later, finally I will get to curate the Jedi holochrons.”

 

“The Sith ones too.”

 

“And your library?”

 

“I only have about half of it left. It is in a terrible disarray. Lord Ren and I are in great need of an archivist.”

 

She grins at this.

 

Then Snoke beckons Rey closer. “I have something else for you, my dear.”

 

“And who is this?”

 

“Meet Rey.” The easy use of his wife’s first name by ever formal Snoke makes Kylo frown. “Rey is your Force healer, our Empress and your new padawan learner.”

 

Padawan learner? What the fuck? Kylo bristles. His wife is no Jedi, and if anyone is going to teach her the Force, it will be Kylo.

 

But Shan Damask seems very taken with Rey. “Yes.” The Muun woman looks over Rey with interest. “I can feel her power. Such a Force imprint you have, Rey.” Snoke’s wife turns to her husband to ask eagerly, “Was she the one with the droid in the desert? The one looking for the old man?”

 

“Yes.” Rey and Snoke answer in unison.

 

“And the boy--did the boy find the girl?”

 

“Yes.” Again, Rey and Snoke answer in unison.    

 

“And did they ever discover that they are brother and sister?” Rey startles at this remark and now turns horrified eyes to Kylo. Because, of course, his wife doesn’t know this particular part of the Skywalker lore. Rey thinks they are talking of her.

 

“Brother and sister??” Rey whispers in horror. Snoke shouts with laughter at this mistaken reaction and, really, it’s kind of rude.

 

“No, no. Not these two, Shan,” he corrects his wife. “Different droid, different desert, different girl.”   Snoke glances to Rey and reveals, “Long ago, Shan saw the Skywalker twins on Tatooine.”

 

“Yes,” Shan Damask looks from Rey to Kylo. “I suppose they don't look much like twins.”  She furrows her brow and looks down a moment. The Muun woman looks very vulnerable when she lifts her eyes to Snoke. The pose is such a contrast to her big, strapping frame. Even sitting down, this woman looks giant. Just look at those enormous bare feet of hers. “I have a lot to learn, don’t I?”

 

His Master nods yes. “My dear, I have much to tell you.”

 

“I’m not going to like some of it, am I?” Shan Damask whispers to her husband.

 

“No,” he agrees. Kylo watches his Master lift one spindly Muun hand to cup his wife’s cheek. “I have become a very Dark Sith in your absence, my dear. I have been too long without your Light. Welcome back, Shan. Welcome home.”

 

Snoke and his wife are staring in each other’s eyes now like they have just found the meaning of life. Fuck, it looks like they’re about to kiss. And that’s it. Kylo has seen enough sappiness for one morning. It grates on him that Snoke's grand family reunion came at the expense of his marriage.   So Kylo stomps out of the room, fists clenched and arms stiff. Rey follows and he whirls on her the moment she is through the door.

 

"Well, I see you have healed your replacement," he snarls. "Does this mean you're done sleeping with him?"

 

Rey glares at him. "Kylo--" Smath’s team is waiting in the hallway they stand in. And the door to the room with Shan, Milo, Smath and Snoke is wide open behind Rey. Everyone can hear everything he says. But Kylo doesn't care.

 

Everything about this charade of civility between him, Snoke and Rey frustrates Kylo. He’s reconciled himself not to kill his Master, but that doesn’t mean he has accepted the situation fully. Kylo Ren is still very, very angry. And he is not ready to stand next to Rey and Snoke and pretend all is fine as he watches his Master moon over his newly alive wife.  "That's what you've been doing here all these months isn't it? Healing her and fucking him!"

 

Rey frowns at him and pulls herself up to her full height. "No, I haven't." She says this with quiet dignity that rivals Milo's.   Damn, if Rey doesn't look like an Empress just now even though she's standing there in a ponytail and medical scrubs.

 

Kylo knows he should stop, but he doesn't. He's impulsive like that. "Now you're her padawan learner," he sneers his sarcasm.   "Isn't that going to be awkward? Is it technically adultery if she was dead at the time, do you think?”

 

"Kylo, stop it. Stop it now! She can hear!"   Rey lunges for the door close mechanism but he freezes her with the Force mid-movement. Over her shoulder Kylo sees his Master turn to shoot him a clear warning look. Kylo ignores it. But he lets the Muun unfreeze Rey.

 

"Afraid everyone will know, Rey? It's hardly a secret." Kylo scowls in the general direction of Snoke and his wife.   "Welcome to the family, Shan Damask," he calls over Rey's shoulder. "Welcome to the fucking Skywalker family! We kill each other, we betray each other and we destroy everything we touch!"

 

Rey is aghast. "Stop it!   You're ruining it for them!   You're ruining it for him. This means so much to him. He has waited--"

 

"You're defending him??" Kylo is incredulous at this.  When did his fierce Rey of Jakku become this accepting? Wait, he knows the answer. His wife became Team Snoke the moment his Master had threatened their sons.

 

From inside the room, Milo glares back at Kylo and quickly inserts himself to trigger the door shut.  Not that it will help because Kylo’s voice isn’t exactly low.

 

Milo and a scared looking Smath are out the door now and Snoke and his wife are in private together for what is no doubt a very awkward conversation.

 

Rey’s face is red. She’s angry. "You're being cruel. This is not the time or pl--"

 

"Why not?" he demands provocatively.

 

Rey rolls her eyes. "Because there is a woman in there who is waking up after being dead a lifetime and she doesn't need your drama, Kylo! She doesn't need to hear this. Not now. Not ever." Rey's hands are on her hips and she's glaring up at him in a way that reminds him of his mother.

 

Whatever. Fine. "Get your things. You're coming in the shuttle with me back to Bast."

 

"No."

 

No? Did she say no? "You aren't needed here anymore," Kylo informs her.   "You are needed at home.   You have two children, or have you forgotten?"

 

"I'm not going to Bast with you. I don't live there anymore."

 

"What?"

 

Rey crosses her arms over her chest.  Her eyes dart over to Smath and his gaping crew standing nearby. They take the hint to withdraw further down the hall. Then she turns her attention back to him.   Her voice sounds resigned.   "It's over, Kylo. I will be living on Coruscant now."

 

"What?" Wait--When did this happen?

 

"It's over." She says this softly now. With what sounds like regret. But maybe he's just imagining things.

 

Emperor Ren didn't conquer the galaxy by taking no for an answer. His mouth is a grim line of determination. "Forever isn't over yet, Empress.   You come with me to the shuttle now or I will drag you there." It's a threat he intends to make good on.

 

Rey sighs and looks away. "Why are you doing this? Nothing has changed."

 

Now she’s just being stubborn. He's willing to look past her fucking Snoke and she's still mad that she's alive? Still unhappy she's married to a Sith? Well, suck it up. "Look,” he tells her bluntly. Kylo has never been one for flowery speeches. “I will forgive your unfaithfulness. Now get over it, Rey. You’re alive and you’re married to a Sith. We need to move on. Let’s get out of here."  

 

"No." She starts walking away and it's just like that night when she walked out on him at Bast. Well, this time he's not letting her get away with it. Kylo scowls and raises his hand to freeze her again with the Force. But just as he summons the Force, Rey stops and turns. "What did you give him for me?" she demands.

 

"What?"

 

"What did you give him to resurrect me? Did you give up your power for me the way Snoke did for Shan?"

 

"No."

 

"Then what did you give up?   Snoke says you have to kill a Force user to resurrect a Force user. Because the Force demands balance."

 

Oh fuck, he does not want to talk about this. He never should have told Rey that she had died. But he hadn't realized she would put it all together. There's a lesson here, he thinks. Once you start lying, keep lying. "It doesn't matter," he brushes her off.

 

But Rey is having none of it. "It matters because you won't tell me. And because he told me not to ask."

 

That was good advice, Kylo thinks. And now he takes his own good advice and lies to her face. "Skywalker, Rey. Killing the Jedi was enough to bring you back."

 

Rey is considering this when Snoke bursts through the door looking livid and shooting lightning. Kylo succeeds in repelling it for a few moments but his Master is so powerful now that Kylo is quickly overwhelmed. The crackle of the full focused power of the Dark Side is the last thing Kylo knows for an eternity until he hears a woman's voice.

 

"Stop!   You’re killing him! Don’t kill him!"

 

Kylo feels the intensity of Snoke's rage lessen in surprise at this interruption. Then it resumes.

 

“Stop, Snoke! Don’t kill him!” The woman’s voice is louder now, more insistent.

 

Again, the intensity of Snoke's rage lessens. Then it stops altogether.

 

"He has a right to be angry," the woman says. She sounds angry herself. And now Kylo is conscious enough to recognize the speaker as Shan Damask.

 

Through the haze of pain, Kylo finds himself on the floor propped against the wall across from the open doorway where Snoke's Muun wife stands. She is clinging tightly to the doorjam to keep herself upright. Weak and unsteady on her feet in her billowy white medical gown.   But her voice is strong and calm as she repeats herself.

 

"Don't kill him, Snoke. He has a right to be angry. And so does she." Shan Damask looks miserable. “So do I,” she adds softly.

 

At these words, Snoke drops his upraised hands. Rey rushes forward and falls to her knees before him. "Oh, Kylo."   His wife lifts a trembling hand to his face as Kylo hears his Master respond.

 

"As you wish, my dear. I do not have to kill my Apprentice to hurt him." Kylo looks over Rey's shoulder to his Master looming tall. The Muun's face is hard and his eyes pure yellow with Dark intensity. Darth Plagueis flicks his wrist in Rey's direction with a flare of long fingers. At the movement, his wife gasps and slumps forward onto him. Kylo moves fast to catch her, calling her name. Suddenly aware of what is happening and powerless to stop it.

 

Rey is bewildered when a moment later she opens her eyes. Shaking her head and rubbing at her temples. Panting and sweating a little. Rey looks to him confused. And then she asks, "Where is Sheev?   Kylo, where's Sheev? Why haven’t I seen Sheev in so long?"

 

Kylo's horrified eyes lift to meet those of Shan Damask and he sees for the first time tears reflecting back at him. This is payback then. He has hurt his Master's wife, so his Master has hurt his. Because that's what his family does--they hurt each other.

 

Rey has her hands at her ears now, her eyes squeezed shut. There are twin trails of blood seeping out her nostrils but she doesn't seem to be aware. The Empress asks again, "Where is Sheev? Where's my little boy? Why haven’t I seen him in so long?"   This time it comes out more as a wail.

 

And then she starts screaming.  


	13. Chapter 13

There are lies you tell when you don’t want to say more.   _I'm fine.   What do you mean--you look great! I love it. It’s no trouble at all._  They are harmless words, really.

 

There are lies you tell to yourself more than you tell to others. _I’m not afraid to die._ _Today is the last day of the Republic. I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine._ _I have brought peace, justice, freedom and security to my new Empire._ These are more like wishes than deceit.

 

Then there are true lies. _I will not let this Republic, that has stood for over a thousand years, be split in two._ _Darth Vader betrayed and murdered your father. We shall have peace._ These lies are evil and you want to believe them.

 

And then, Rey thinks, there is the worst lie of all. _I love you._ Only fools believe that lie. Lonely, abused, neglected and gullible fools like Rey.

 

Of course it had been too good to be true. You don't slash a man's face, blow up his Death Star 3.0 and make a good impression. 'You need a teacher!' wasn't a Sith's attempt at flirting.  And First Order princes don't venture to Jakku to rescue starving scavenger Resistance girls, sweeping them off their feet to whisk them away to their grandfather's castle. And they don't wine you and dine you and slowly woo you until you melt into their arms.   And they don't insist you marry them in the moonlight before they carry you off to bed for a night of amazing sex and a lifetime of happily ever after.

 

No, as it turns out, that man rapes you in a prison cell and gets you pregnant. Then one day years later he shows up to arrest you and tries to abandon your toddler to die alone in the woods. Then he imprisons you in his castle and keeps making awkward passes at you until you finally end up in bed together. Along the way you get married mostly to make things look more respectable and to give the kid a name. And his family keeps making trouble. Finally, it all culminates with you getting shot and dying. Then the Sith have the great idea to raise you from the dead. And they kill your beloved little boy to do it.  They wipe your memory to hide it all from you, turning you into some Pollyanna Stepford wife Empress.  And but for a festering argument between two Sith that used the truth as a weapon, you would never have been the wiser.

 

Yes, your life is one big lie and your beloved son is dead. And the person you trust the most is responsible.

 

It is heartbreaking.

 

The crux of the truth comes out right there in the crowded hallway before too many witnesses. And it is juicy and cringeworthy. The Supreme Leader sleeps with the Empress and his unsuspecting dead wife now knows. The Emperor killed his firstborn son in a blood sacrifice to Darkness and his unsuspecting living wife now knows. Then the Leader casts blue lightning from his fingertips like a wrathful god and there is a lot of screaming about Skywalkers, the Force and death. The dead woman has had enough and she swoons gracefully into the Leader’s arms. He sweeps her up and strides away leaving others to pry the angry Empress’ hands from her injured husband’s throat. Lady Ren is shrieking and crying and if she had the power of blue lightning there’s no way the Emperor would have survived. But she doesn’t, and he does. Afterwards, no one knows what to do except Milo, of course. For as usual, the Skywalker clan is a hot mess.

 

Milo is the one to sit Rey down and to tell her the complete truth. Even the things she cannot remember because she had not been alive to witness them. Yes, if Milo ever turns Jedi the Sith are fucked, Rey thinks. Because Milo knows everything. Patiently, the castlekeeper answers her questions as she struggles to understand what is real and what is not. And as the days go by, Snoke's fictional reality fades more and more in her memory until it is completely gone.   And then there is no doubt in Rey’s mind what happened and why.  She’s always been strong-minded like that.

 

Rey understands so much now. Why Kylo had never wanted to talk about their past and about the war. Why he would brood sometimes at night alone looking out on the garden terrace.   Why he would remark now and then that he wished their child had lived. Even telling her that he had seen their child in the Force. She had thought that he was referring to little unborn Padme Ren. But she now knows he was referring to Sheev.

 

Another Skywalker killed by one of their own.

 

You cannot be Kylo Ren and have a conscience. The man who commanded at the Starkiller, at Chandrila and at D’Qar feels no remorse. Even that awful night when Kylo had murdered his mother, Rey recalls that his grief had been mostly focused on himself and not on his actions.   And she had seen Kylo murder his father in cold blood when they had first met.

 

Rey has long known that Kylo is an evil Sith. A genocidal killer. A homicidal son and nephew. Why then had she ever believed that Kylo would be different for her and for Sheev? That he would be a moral man for them? A loving husband, a caring father, a trusted protector, a reliable provider, an equal partner for the struggles of life? Why? Because Kylo Ren had told her that he loved her.   And she had believed him.

 

All Rey of Jakku has ever wanted is a family. As a child and as an adult, this has been her goal. Because family loves you and you love them. That’s the point. Except if you’re a Skywalker. Then, the people who are supposed to love you keep trying to hurt you. Because they have expectations and conditions and agendas and vendettas that are beyond your control. So the Skywalker Sith prince who promises love and commits to forever in the moonlight will betray you in the end.  He gives you the galaxy you never wanted and murders the little boy you always loved.   Because Leia Organa had spoken the truth long ago: there are no happy endings on the Dark Side. It always ends in tragedy.

 

So as Rey stands at Bast Castle before the unmarked grave of her firstborn son, she is numb with sadness.    Mourning the little boy she so loved. Mourning the life she thought she had lived. Mourning the man she thought she loved.

 

If it wasn’t over before, it surely is now. This is unforgivable.

 

“You never really loved me, did you?” This comes out in a quiet, flat tone. Rey can’t even muster righteous anger at the man who stands beside her.

 

But her Sith is all emotion, as usual, when he responds. “How can you say that? I gave our son for you to live!” Rey used to find him so compelling, so alive, so determined. A bright spark, a live wire, a man burning with a zealot’s vision for a better future. But now, Kylo Ren is just exhausting. And so disappointing. For he has betrayed her trust far worse than Snoke ever did.   Kylo keeps saying the same thing over and over again, and she knows he believes it. But that doesn’t make it true. “I gave our son for you to live!”

 

“No,” she corrects him coldly. “You gave our son for my Light.   For yourself.   This isn't about me. This is about the Force. About bolstering your power and enabling a Sith.” Yes, like father like son, like Master like Apprentice. Kylo hadn't ever loved her. He had only loved her Light. Which makes sense because First Order princes don't fall in love with barely literate Jakku trash like herself.   At least Snoke had been upfront about wanting her Light.

 

“How could you, Kylo?” Again, her words are quiet and bitter. “Your own son.”

 

“I did it for you, Rey. Because I love you.”

 

They have rehearsed this same argument too many times now and gotten nowhere. So Rey just stands there in silence.  

 

Finally, Kylo asks, “Do you hate me?”

 

Yes. “I don’t know.”

 

There is nothing more to say, so they stop discussing it. And they go their separate ways. Kylo remains at Bast with the twins and Rey goes to Snoke’s Coruscant apartment. There she steadfastly ignores the barrage of messages from her Emperor. After a few weeks, he starts sending her gifts and these she ignores too.   Finally, he takes to sending her pictures and news of the twins. And these Rey opens and reads. But she does not respond.

 

Grief is a slow, insidious thing. After the first shock of loss, then comes the emptiness.   Flashes of anger, moments of guilt too. But mostly a feeling of absence. Of knowing that your life is forever changed because someone is gone. And it’s especially bad when that someone is a child. Because what’s gone is potential unrealized, life unlived and experiences never shared.   It is not a natural thing for a parent to outlive a child.

 

And this child has left no trace behind. Not one toy, not one picture, not one well-loved blanket or favorite book. It’s as if Sheev Ren had never lived. And this, Rey knows, is by design. A conspiracy of silence enforced by the deadly threat of Kylo Ren. All Rey has is memories, and obsessively she goes over and over them in her mind. Fearing that if she stops, she might lose them once again.

 

Snoke had instructed her to keep a low profile on Coruscant and that’s kind of amusing since his apartment is like something out of a holonet telenovela. A giant, sprawling party palace on the top floor of an exclusive apartment tower coop in the heart of the Coruscant Upper Level. It is a ridiculously extravagant showplace designed mostly for entertaining, with room after room set up for receptions of one kind or another. Even the kitchen contemplates catering for hundreds.

 

But the actual living quarters are small, and Rey likes them. Here she stays all day, every day in seclusion.   Her household consists of a few droids, a young human maid and about a dozen stormtroopers who act as security. But these occupants she barely acknowledges. Day after day, Rey hangs out in the medical scrubs she took with her or in the First Order mechanics coveralls she knows Kylo hates. She sleeps in them and then lounges in them with three-day old unwashed hair thrown up in a clip. Rey’s eyes are bleary and red from crying and from staring at the holonet screen for hours on end.   She eats rations for three meals a day and mostly leaves them unfinished. More and more, the skinny scavenger girl stares back at Rey from the mirror.

 

Some days, time stands still. Other days, time slips away.

 

The only days Rey actually gets up, gets dressed and accomplishes something are the days when she flies home to Bast to visit the twins.   She has two living children who need her love. But she's frightened to care for them. Frightened that they too one day will disappear to an unmarked grave and again she will be bereft. But she cannot stay away. So those days Rey emerges formally attired in full Empress mode putting her best face forward. She knows it’s what Milo expects.

 

She also knows he isn’t fooled. One day as Milo walks Rey out to the landing platform at Bast to say goodbye, the old castlekeeper suggests that she speak with Snoke’s wife. “Madame is grieving her son too,” Milo tells her gently. “She would understand.” But Rey doesn’t think anyone can understand how she feels. And, really, the last person she wants to spend time with right now is Shan Damask.

 

But as the weeks slip by and Rey’s depression does not lessen, there begins a concerted effort to lift her spirits. A box of holochrons appears unannounced from Bast. Inside is a note from Kylo urging her to explore them. But Force healing just reminds her of being in bed with Snoke.

 

Then one day her red prototype TIE appears parked on the private landing pad at Coruscant. Maybe you should take it for a spin, Milo suggests. No one has flown it in months. But every time she looks at the TIE she thinks of the special delivery of toys that once had arrived at Bast for Sheev.

 

There is a major First Order base on Coruscant nearby and Kylo wants to know if she would consider working as a mechanic there one day a week. He knows how important it is for Rey to feel useful and how soothing it is for her to work with her hands. But she is reminded of watching the mechanics in the _Finalizer_ hangar bay with Sheev and that just depresses her.

 

Kylo even goes so far as to have Milo try to mediate her return to Bast. They can live separate lives in separate bedrooms but she can be present full-time in the boys’ lives again, he offers.   But Rey thinks this pretense of normal family life would only compound her confusion. After all, the normal family life she thought she had at Bast turned out to be a pretense itself, all built on the lies of a past that never existed.

 

The overtures and suggestions keep coming and Rey gets the message: everyone is worried about her. And, frankly, she’s a bit worried about herself too.   For all the insecurities of Jakku have come creeping back.

 

She's the throwaway who survived by her wits and a healthy dose of dumb luck. A girl who had no value to anyone but herself. And if one day she had succumbed to the desert, there would have been no one to miss her. She would be forgotten that very day. Because Rey of Jakku had not mattered.

 

Not until Sheev came along, that is. That is when things had changed. She had a reason to survive now that was larger than herself.   A boy she loved who loved her. And she had been willing to risk it all for that child. Once desperate enough to holler 'Kylo Ren, that's your son!' in a forest glade full of troopers. Once determined enough to stare down the Skywalker twins and return to an angry Kylo Ren. Because that's what love does--it strengthens you in moments of weakness, it empowers you to make the hard choices, it gives weight to your sacrifices, and it gives meaning to your life.

 

This is why loneliness cuts so deep.

 

And love for that little boy had brought them together as a family--she, Kylo and Sheev.   So for her family's future, Rey had supported Kylo's bid to win the galaxy and to fulfill the dream of Darth Vader. And to keep her family safe, Rey had steadfastly rejected the treacherous Skywalkers who stalked her with lies to sway her to their cause.   She would keep her family together no matter what the cost.   And, as it turned out, that cost was very high indeed.

 

The chain of events leading to Rey slashing hands in the moonlight with Kylo was stranger than fiction.   But along the way she made peace with the First Order and the Sith. And then she and Kylo had stood together and leaned on each other through death, torture and war. Because that's what they had promised—that they would be together forever in the Force. In love against all odds and against her better judgement.

 

But that love has died along with her little boy. Now she's a political prop for the First Order, the galaxy's Jakku Cinderella Empress. And she's passed around between two Sith like one of the call girls for the Knights of Ren.   Despite all the comfort and security, all the pretty clothes and the luxury, Rey is as powerless and vulnerable now as she ever was on Jakku. Maybe even more so. Yes, the more things change, the more they stay the same. And that just pisses Rey off. Because no matter what she does and no matter all that has happened, at her core Rey will always be the struggling scavenger who has learned the hard way not to rely on anyone but herself. Things never get any better, she thinks. They’re just a different kind of worse.

 

Because Rey never leaves the apartment, the troopers in her security detail pass the time mostly hanging out in the kitchen watching sports and podraces and playing sabacc. So late one night when Rey is feeling especially alone, she ventures in. It’s Empire Day, or New Empire Day as it’s now called, and she had watched the Coruscant parade on the holonet. Rey couldn’t help but remember the time she had watched it in person with Sheev and Kylo Ren.  

 

At the very sight of her, all eight troopers leap to their feet to stand at attention.   And that makes her blush. “At ease, men,” she tells them with a small smile. And while they relax somewhat, no one is truly at ease. But an hour later, after Rey has hotwired her way past the security code for the wine cellar to liberate several bottles of Emperor Ren’s favorite Corellian brandy, everyone is at ease.

 

Rey is as bad at holding her liquor as she is at sabacc, but her glass is never empty and the troopers keep letting her win.   The men get to toasting as is the Empire Day tradition. And it’s round after round of salutes to the First Order and to comrades fallen on the Starkiller and in the war. When they work their way around the table to her, the Empress toasts to General Hux. She was half in love with Brendol Hux, Rey confesses aloud. She was there as a prisoner to watch him die. Yeah, she tells the troopers sullenly, I should have married Hux. He was the better man. She’s too drunk to notice how uncomfortable everyone gets at this.

 

Finally, someone gets the idea to toast to the Emperor and that’s when Rey slams down her glass. “No!” she slurs her refusal with a frown. “No one toasts to that child murdering asshole! No one toasts to Kylo Ren!”

 

“My lady, perhaps you’ve had enough,” ventures the squad leader as he surreptitiously reaches for her glass.

 

Tipsy Rey misunderstands. “Damn right, I’ve had enough! I hate the fucking Skywalkers! I hate the fucking Sith! And I hate that fucker Kylo Ren!” Rey is hollering now. And then she starts to cry. And the squad leader takes her by the hand and leads her back to her room to sleep it off.

 

The next day, Rey wakes in her bed in her clothes once again. And yet again, she skips a shower and skips a few meals. It’s a day like any other day for Rey. Just her and her haunting memories.


	14. Chapter 14

Kylo unexpectedly arrives an hour early for his weekly audience with the Supreme Leader. He knows how this will go. Kylo will make his report, Snoke will give his criticism, and they will pretend like that ugly scene in the hallway with the lightning never occurred. The Muun is as detached as ever. Focused on the business of his realm and not the drama of his family.

 

And so Kylo’s Empire flourishes while his life falls apart. But it’s business as usual for the Sith. There’s no such thing as work-life balance on the Dark Side.

 

Kylo is unwilling to present himself for scrutiny any earlier than he needs to. So he wanders into Snoke’s library. It’s always quiet and empty there. He will be left alone. But as he marches in, he finds Snoke's wife seated at the lone table surrounded by piles of books and datapads.  What’s her name again? Shan, he thinks.

 

"Hello," she looks up and greets him casually. Like an equal, he notes. Normally, people stand in the Emperor's presence. But this woman stays seated with one leg tucked up under her. She looks at him pleasantly for a moment before she speaks. "How is your wife?"   This Shan woman has a kind face and she looks genuinely concerned.

 

He resists the urge to like her.

 

"The Empress is fine."   It's a lie and they both know it. The last he's heard, Rey was getting drunk with the stormtroopers and trashing him. And that's very unlike her. And deeply unsettling for Kylo. His Rey is suffering and she won't let anyone help her. It's as if she has retreated into herself and into her misery. While Snoke’s lavish Coruscant apartment is not a downed AT-AT in the Jakku desert, it might as well be as far as Rey is concerned. For she is holed up there alone.

 

But Kylo doesn't want to discuss it. Especially not with this woman.   This chance meeting is awkward enough as it is.

 

"I never got a chance to thank her," the Muun woman says softly. "My husband says that she spent many, many hours healing me. He says she works miracles. That she is very gifted and entirely self-taught."

 

Kylo is proud of his wife and her accomplishments in the Force, but he just nods. He eyes Snoke’s wife from behind the mask. Taking in her ill-fitting black t-shirt and pants. Shan Damask doesn't look anything like her glossy holonet pictures from long ago. She looks dumpy and altogether too casual with her bare feet and rolled up trousers. The bandages on her arms are gone, he notes. If there is scarring, it is not very apparent. Just a telltale diagonal line at the base of each wrist and then higher up by her elbows.

 

Kylo knows that he should say something, anything. At the very least, he should thank her for calling off Snoke and his Force lightning. This woman had saved his life, after all. But that conversation might lead to other topics he knows they would both rather not discuss.

 

After more heavy silence, she springs for an apology. "I am sorry for what happened." She says this carefully and he wonders what exactly she's apologizing for. For Snoke coercing his wife? For Snoke threatening his children? For Snoke revealing the awful truth of Sheev? For the ruin of his marriage? For the deep rift between him and his Master? Reviving this woman has come at the expense of him and Rey.   Kylo knows he should probably graciously accept her mea culpa but he's not in the mood.   He's heartsick over how things have turned out.

 

Shan Damask must sense his hesitation because she repeats herself. "I am very sorry for the harm done on my behalf."

 

Kylo responds bitterly. "He's not." Snoke is the one who caused the harm. He should be the one accepting blame.

 

"Sith do not apologize," she quietly reminds him of a maxim of Darkness.

 

"And Sith do not forgive," he responds curtly with some Dark Side catechism of his own.

 

"I like your mask," she changes the topic. "It's very Revan." She cracks a girlish smile now.   "Very dashing. Very Dark."

 

Yes, he knows. But how does she? "What does a Jedi know about Darth Revan?"

 

"Oh, I might surprise you with what I know about the Sith." She says this with a coy smile and suddenly Kylo realizes what Darth Plagueis sees in this dumpy frump besides the Force. "I translated Snoke's library years ago. I've read all of this," she waves an arm at the bookshelves behind her. "All of this and more. The missing ones Sidious took." Oh, yes, he knows what the old Muun sees in her now. Darth Plagueis would be hot for any woman who could read his dusty old books. He probably fucks her in Kittat.

 

"May I fix your sword?"

 

What? Did he hear that right? This woman needs to lay off his sword.

 

But she keeps talking. "You must be good with a saber to carry the old crossguard design. Sidious never did master it. He finally gave up and went back to a standard saber."

 

Kylo hadn't known this. Looking at Snoke’s wife he realizes that she probably knows all sorts of lost secrets. And long ago, he suspects, she had known all the players in the collapse of the Republic.

 

Shan Damask rummages around under a pile of books to pull out a set of lightsaber tools. “I was cleaning mine earlier,” she explains. Yes, he sees her Jedi saber hilt peeking out from beneath more books. “Will you hand me your sword, Lord Ren? Let’s fix those wires on the hilt.”

 

He eyes her, bristling. “No one sees the wires when I kill them with it.”

 

“Well, now you will do it with a better sword,” she tells him. “Come on, hand it over,” she cajoles with a smile. Reluctantly, he complies.

 

And with a moment of concentration and a wave of her hand, his sword separates into its component parts. He watches as she starts to work. “You’re good at killing people aren’t you?” she tells him. “I’ve been studying up on the First Order.”

 

“I am Sith,” he answers, as if that explains it all. Kylo Ren is not much for small talk. Social skills have never been his strong suit.  But he owes this woman his life, so he makes an effort. “My wife is mechanical like you.”

 

She looks up at this. “Oh, I’m no techie. I can’t even change a lightbulb, Lord Ren. But I can do this.” He can see that this work is hard for her. Most of the fingers on her left hand do not seem to move. While her hands and arms reveal little visible scarring, she does not yet have full function. But gamely, albeit awkwardly, she’s threading the saber wires on the inside of his hilt as she tinkers away.

 

She talks as she works. “I was about five years old the first time anyone stuck a lightsaber in my hand. That’s how we were trained back then. We spent many hours assembling and disassembling a sword. The Jedi were really into swords.” He watches as she plucks out the crystal and holds it up to the light. She looks at the red gem wistfully before divulging its history, "Years ago, I wore this crystal as my wedding ring to mask my Force imprint. Jedi would sense the Force in me and mistake it for the crystal. Back then, the Sith hid in the open from the Jedi. And they hid me too."

 

"Why didn't you cloak your Force imprint like a Sith?" he wants to know. That would be the obvious solution.

 

"Snoke didn't want me to know how to hide in the Force. At least, not at first." She replaces the crystal in his sword now.

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because then I might hide from him too. But eventually I found the technique described in one of his books and I learned it anyway." She admits to this sheepishly.

 

"And did you hide from him?" He’s curious.

 

“Yes.” Shan Damask frowns at some distant memory. Then she looks Kylo in the eye even through his mask. “It is not always an easy thing to be married to a Sith, Lord Ren."

 

There’s a story there, but Kylo says nothing.

 

The saber is reassembled now with the wiring completely encased inside the hilt. “This weapon is your life,” she tells him with a gentle smile as she hands it back. “That’s what they used to tell us as padawans.” Shan Damask looks away blankly for a moment, lost in the past again. “But my sword never saved my life. It took my son to save my life,” she whispers.

 

He can tell that this is a difficult topic. So now it’s his turn to change the subject.  “What’s your fighting style?” Kylo is guessing the easy Form VI since this woman was a Jedi clerk or some sort of desk job like that. And from the looks of her soft body, Snoke’s wife is not an athlete.

 

“Bad.”

 

“What?”

 

Shan Damask laughs and blushes. “My fighting style was bad, Lord Ren. I’m not very good with a sword,” she tells him. And she doesn’t seem ashamed to admit it. “I spent more time in the library as a padawan than in field practice. And I only ever fought one real opponent.”

 

“Sidious?” Kylo guesses.

 

“Oh, no. It was Snoke.”

 

“Snoke?” He finds it hard to imagine his Master ever taking up arms against this woman. He’s far too besotted with her.

 

Kylo’s tone must betray his surprise for she admits, “Snoke and I have had our moments. Every couple fights.”

 

“Not with swords,” he says dryly.

 

Shan Damask shrugs at this. “Yeah, well, when you’re us, everything is dramatic, right?” And now he sees that this woman does indeed know the ways of the Sith. “How’d you get that slash I saw on your face, Lord Ren,” she challenges with a knowing sideways glance.

 

“Rey,” he admits with a sigh.

 

“Well, it suits you,” she decides. “You can’t pull off that fierce helmet and be all baby faced underneath. It would spoil the effect.” Yes, this woman understands the Sith, he thinks. Even the posturing. And again, he has to fight the urge to like her. “I never got close enough to put a mark on Snoke,” she reveals. “Back then, my husband was very fast with a sword. Every bit as good as Mace Windu was.”

 

Kylo nods. He’s heard of the famous swordsman Jedi from his dead uncle. “What was Windu like?” he asks. He can’t help being curious about the old Jedi Order his uncle so revered.

 

Shan Damask thinks for a moment. “We were padawans together long ago. Mace had a flashy purple sword.” She laughs a little at the memory. “Everyone teased him about it, and he didn’t take it well. The man had a very high opinion of himself.” Now she frowns. “I guess he died in Order 66 long ago. Along with the rest.”

 

Not all the Jedi died in the Purge. “I killed the last one,” Kylo boasts quietly. He had killed his Jedi uncle to win the galaxy and to protect his wife and son.

 

“Yes, this family is very good at killing each other,” she observes pointedly. But her next words are said with an easy smile. “Well, I’m the last one now and I would prefer that you not kill me, Lord Ren.”

 

Kylo grunts and smirks. “He’d only bring you back again.”

 

And this makes her laugh out loud. “You’re right. He would.” This Shan Damask woman laughs a lot, he’s noticed. Given all she has been through, Snoke’s wife is shockingly easygoing. And she seems a strange match for his high maintenance, intense and formal Sith Master.

 

“You know that he’s not going to stay holed up here for much longer, right?” she tells him. It sounds like a warning.

 

“Yes, he’s planning to bring culture to the Empire,” Kylo says dryly. Whatever that means.

 

“It’s hard for me to imagine my Snoke here in isolation all those years, Lord Ren. The man I knew was very much in the middle of it all. Out in the open constructing his plots. Wherever there was politics, money and power, there was Hego Damask.”

 

Yes, Kylo thinks. Those are the skills he does not have and desperately needs to acquire. The softer, indirect ways of getting what you want through machinations and manipulations. The whisper in the ear at a party that becomes the anchoring vote in the Senate the next day. The coalition building, the intrigue, the plots, the blackmail, the deception.   More and more, Snoke’s wide ranging skills are displayed to Kylo during peacetime. It is humbling for Emperor Ren.

 

“You know,” Shan Damask gives him a measuring look, “He’s very proud of you. Snoke has had a few apprentices through the years. You are the clear favorite.”

 

His Master is not quick with his praise. But she sounds sincere and he believes her. Kylo feels his face grow hot behind his mask. And then he gets angry. How can he be the favorite given his Master’s betrayal? “If this is how he treats his favorite, I’d hate to be the others,” Kylo sneers as his long simmering anger bubbles to the surface.

 

There is an awkward silence. Neither of them wants to talk about this, he can tell. Kylo turns to leave.

 

“Wait,” she stops him. “Do you read Kittat?”

 

Of course, he does. He’s the Apprentice to Plagueis, who is quite possibly the nerdiest Sith of all time. Kylo was fifteen years old and made to translate Sith texts for hours when all he really wanted to do was practice his saber skills. But Plagueis the Wise had insisted he study the old masters in their own words.

 

“Good.” She stands to pluck a book off the shelf behind her. Then rummages through it looking for something before laying the open book on the table and pointing to a page. Her voice is soft now and confiding like a big sister. “When some time has passed and things are better between you and Rey, this is what she needs.”

 

He squints at the inscription she points to. “A tattoo?” he frowns. Kylo is not one for superstition. Some of these old Sith charms are pretty quaint. Stupid really. The Dark Force is not magic tricks.

 

“Read it,” she tells him.

 

And he does. Then he looks closer to read it again. “Does this say what I think it says?” It’s an ancient curse written in florid arcane language.   It basically boils down to ‘This woman belongs to her Sith. If any other man dares to stick his dick in her, may it shrivel up and fall off.’ Kylo meets her eyes and Shan grins wickedly at him and nods.

 

“Let me guess—you have one of these?” he says dryly.

 

“Of course,” Shan answers without hesitation. “It’s very possessive, isn’t it? Very Sith.”

 

Kylo snorts. “It’s very him.”

 

“Yes, that too,” she agrees easily.   Her next statement is lighthearted but Kylo hears the underlying hurt. “But if we are all going to be a family--to live together and maybe live forever—then it would be best if we slept with our own spouses, don’t you think?”

 

It’s a moment of quiet candor, and Kylo rushes to concur. “Yes.”

 

And then on impulse he yanks off his mask. Crashes it down hard on the table with one hand as he runs the other hand through his mop of wild black hair. He is Sith so strong emotion is his stock and trade. And Kylo Ren is no abstract thinking Muun. He is human, oh so achingly human. This Dark prince feels first, thinks second.

 

"She won't see me," he mumbles this more than says it. “She tells me to stay away.” Snoke’s wife is probably dealing with her own issues, but as usual, Kylo can’t see anyone’s pain other than his own. "I've lost her . . . my marriage is over . . . my family is ruined.” None of this matters, he thinks in despair. Rey is never going to sport a Sith tattoo proclaiming her to be forever his. Never again will she be back in his arms and in his bed.

 

“I'm so sorry.”

 

He’s sorry too. "It's all falling apart." Kylo shakes his head ruefully. Why is he telling Snoke’s wife this? He doesn’t know. All Kylo knows is that he has to unburden himself to someone. And maybe this woman with the friendly smile who hides the secrets of the Sith is the one person who can fully understand.

 

"And now, she's falling apart. Since Rey was a child she survived on her own in the harshest of circumstances. She was abandoned and so she has trust issues and this will only make it worse.” He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. “My wife resisted torture drugs. She stood up to my zealot bitch of a mother. She stood toe to toe with Luke Skywalker. Who else can say that??” He is pacing now in the small space, like a caged animal. All stiff arms and clenched fists. “Rey is tough and strong. She is the most capable person I know.   A survivor! But she can’t survive this.” He halts and sighs heavily as his emotional outburst comes to an end.   “We can’t survive this.”

 

“Lord Ren,” Shan Damask says his name softly. Her eyes are full of compassion. “You would be surprised what love can endure.”

 

But he dismisses this sentiment. “She doesn’t love me.” No one will ever love me again, he knows. Not like Rey did.

 

“If she didn’t love you . . . if you didn’t love her . . . this all wouldn’t hurt so much. You should go to her.”

 

“This is all his fault!” Kylo spits his words out like venom.

 

“Not entirely,” Shan Damask corrects him gently. And silently he acknowledges the truth of her words. For Snoke had indeed tried to talk him out of resurrecting Rey.

 

But still he feels abused and forsaken in all of this. His children threatened, his wife essentially raped. And his father figure and Master for over twenty years is responsible. But despite all his burning rage and all his Dark power, Kylo can do nothing now to redress it.

 

Snoke’s wife is looking at him with understanding now, like she knows what he’s thinking. Is she in his head? He’ll be pissed if she’s in his head. He has forgotten that this woman is Jedi. She’s so . . . non-threatening.

 

“Lord Ren, how long have you been the Apprentice?” she asks.

 

“Twenty-two years.”

 

She nods at this. Then summarizes his life in one devastating sentence. “Then you know by now that there are no choices other than Snoke’s choices.”

 

This is the voice of experience talking.  Kylo looks at his Master’s secret Jedi bride, newly resurrected almost a century after her death. And he can’t help but wonder if she too is a victim in all of this.

 

Shan Damask has made an impression on him. So Kylo takes her advice.   Once he leaves Snoke, he heads to Coruscant. No more hands off, wait-and-see with Rey. Kylo is taking matters into his own hands.

 

For he is the Emperor of the galaxy and a Sith prince. His enemies quake at the mention of his name, crowds gather just to catch a glance of him in person, and his name is synonymous with glory and power. Yes, Kylo Ren can have whatever he wants. Except lasting happiness, it seems.   For he’s a Skywalker and he worries that he is doomed in the end, just like all those gone before him.

 

That unspoken fear grates on him.

 

He thought he had found his happy ending in Rey. And, yes, his scrappy scavenger girl had been broken when he had found her the second time. Broken by Jakku and by war and by him. Broken and trying so hard to fix herself and to heal the past through her love for their son Sheev. That struggle had resonated deeply with him. For Kylo may have been born the privileged scion of a famous clan, but for long years he too had struggled for self-worth. To meet the expectations and withstand the withering criticism of those who wanted him to live out their dreams.

 

So he had violently and righteously rebelled to choose his own path. And in the process, he had left a trail of blood clear across the galaxy from his father to his mother to his uncle. Slowly, methodically, he had destroyed one generation of Skywalkers even as he created another. For with Rey, Kylo had finally found the acceptance and the love he had craved for so long. And there were no strings attached, no conditions to be met, no demands made. Just a toxic cocktail of shameless codependency, emotion-filled sex and the Force. Greedy Sith that he is, Kylo had drunk his fill every chance he got. Gorging himself on Rey’s love with his Master’s blessing.   Slipping deeper and farther into Darkness secure in the knowledge that he could find fleeting absolution in her Light.

 

And it had been perfect until that blaster bolt had ruined it all.

 

But with the Dark magic of the Sith and the unholy knowledge of the Skywalker patriarch, once again it had been perfect. Sort of. A fantasy mirage of happiness plastered as a veneer over betrayal and tragedy. A big, evil lie. But Rey had been none the wiser. And as every husband knows, if mommy is happy then everyone at home is happy. And Rey had been happy and blissfully unaware. So, of course, it had been worth it. The ends always justify the means as far as Kylo is concerned.

 

But now the secret is out and the truth laid bare and the consequences are unacceptable. Kylo Ren has always had trouble with consequences. Usually, he prefers just to walk away. But this time Rey had beat him to it. She had walked out of his life so quickly he had whiplash. Well, today, he’s going to get her back. Or at least try.

 

Rey must hear the whine of his shuttle engines cycling down because as Kylo strides past the pair of troopers stationed inside the door to Snoke’s apartment, Rey rushes out into the hallway.

 

She freezes.

 

He stops in his tracks. Then tears off his mask.

 

They stare at one another.

 

"What do you want?" she calls warily. She’s meters away from him and looking like she’s poised to run.

 

"To talk. Just to talk."

 

She folds her arms across her chest and juts out one hip. Her thoughts are screaming indignant anger at him. “There’s nothing left to say, Kylo. We’re through.”

 

There are two stormtroopers standing right behind him, but Kylo doesn’t care. This time, he vows, he’s not going to lose his temper. So he makes an effort to keep the tone of command from his voice. To be conciliatory. “Rey, we can make this right. You have to give me a chance.”

 

“I don't have to give you anything! You have already taken everything that matters from me.” These words drip with bitterness and Kylo is momentarily taken aback at the hard edge to her tone.   This is not off to a good start.

 

But he redoubles his efforts. Kylo starts walking towards her now. Slowly. “You still have two children at home who love you and miss you. Don't give up on us, Rey. We are a family.”

 

“I hate you! You murdered our son!” Her lower lip is trembling and Rey looks close to tears.

 

“Rey, you know that if I could have you both alive, I would. I loved Sheev.”

 

“Liar!” she accuses. Her expression is ugly. “The only person you love is yourself, Kylo!”

 

“I loved him!”   The Sith explodes, despite his best intentions to keep his cool. “That little boy lurked in my mind day in, day out. He would call to me from half way across the galaxy to tell me about a toy. Or to confess that he broke another nanny droid and you were mad. When the Resistance had you and he cried nonstop for you, that was me up with him at night.   That was me distracting him with Force tricks to get his mind off of it.”

 

Doesn’t she understand that he hurts for this? That he grieves the loss of Sheev too?

 

“I was going to give him the galaxy, Rey! He wouldn’t have to fight and to kill for years for it. And he would have the childhood I never had. Sheev would grow up with two parents who loved each other and stayed together through it all. I was going to understand when he struggled in the Force and in life. And no one was ever going to disown him and write him off at fourteen years old like they did me. It was going to be different for Sheev.”

 

Kylo’s grief is a bitter torment since he is responsible for his boy’s death. But can’t she see what a terrible no-win situation he had been in? There had be no good choices on that fateful day.

 

“I loved that kid!” Kylo roars out his pain bottled up for years in secret. Unable to be shared until now with the woman who could understand it best. “I loved the way he would grab my datapad and run out of the room with it every chance he got. Gleeful that he had stolen it once again. I loved the way he looked just like me but acted like you most of the time. He had your laugh—do you remember that?” Kylo is raving now as the memories tumble out of his mouth. “He was so damn cute in those wookiee pajamas you washed every day for him to wear. And he adored those spaceships he slept with and carried around everywhere. He talked for weeks about the TIE that delivered them at Bast. He would have been crazy for your red TIE, Rey, just crazy for it. Oh Gods,” he groans, “how I loved that kid!”

 

Fuck, he has to stop this. He’s going to cry if he keeps this up. And then he’s going to have to kill those stormtroopers behind him for seeing it.

He inhales a ragged breath. “Rey, you don’t know—you just don’t know how hard it was to do it. You don’t know how it felt to make that choice! But you . . . you . . . oh Gods, Rey, you were gone. And I—“ he falters now, looking deeply into her horrified eyes. “I couldn’t resist, Rey,” he confesses miserably. “I just couldn’t resist the temptation to get you back. Snoke didn’t even put up much of a fight about it. And I never guessed why . . . I never suspected why . . . “

 

Rey has her head in her hands now and her shoulders are shaking. She must be crying. “Stop . . . just stop, Kylo.”

 

Yes, he needs to stop. He’s got himself under control now. His voice is normal again. Sort of. “I loved you both, Rey. But I had to choose. And I chose you.”

 

Rey looks up now and throws out her right hand and reaches for the Force. A heavy duty blaster rifle flies to her out of the hands of the trooper over his left shoulder. In an instant, she’s got the safety off and it’s pointed straight at him.

 

“Say it again, Kylo. Tell me again.” He can hear the resolve in her voice and she looks determined. Yes, she’s going to do it. Well, bring it on, Rey. Bring it on. He’s ready.

 

Kylo looks her in the eye. “I had to choose and I chose you.”

 

Rey fires off a round. It’s a good shot. Aimed right for his chest. Kylo freezes it in the Force.

 

“Again, Kylo. Tell me again.”

 

“I choose you, Rey.” He keeps compounding the sin. Doubling down on the betrayal. Because it’s the truth. There’s nothing he won’t do for this woman. Again and again, he’s prepared to tell the girl who was abandoned how much he values her.

 

She fires again and he freezes it. Damn, it feels good to be shot at.   It’s been a few years now since he has been in active combat. He’s forgotten what a rush it is.

 

“I choose you, Rey. I will always choose you. No matter what, I will always choose you.” Because you are the perfect woman for me, he thinks. No one else understands me like you do, Rey.

 

She keeps firing now and the space between them is peppered with frozen red plasma bolts. At the sound of blasterfire, the remaining troopers from Rey’s security detail appear from behind her. They stand in shock and indecision for a moment, sizing up the situation and trying to decide whether to side with the angry Empress or the Emperor. Finally, one of the troopers tackles Rey from behind while another dives to smash the rifle from her grip. By the time Kylo has picked his way through the maze of suspended blaster shots with the two guards from the door at his rear, Rey is face down on the floor under two troopers.

 

Kylo waves a hand behind him and the suspended shots fly free to slam into the door and the empty hallway behind him. Rey flinches at the sound. He’s inches from her now, his heavy black surcoat swaying to brush at her prone form.

 

“Leave us,” he waves away the troopers. And they pause until he glares and they all melt away. Now it’s just he and Rey. She has rolled over on her back and is staring up at him fearfully.   Looking like she thinks he’s going to ignite his sword and end her. But she’s still mad, he can see. Defiant until the end.

 

“Did they hurt you?” The troopers had not been gentle.

 

“No.”

 

“Good.” He raises an eyebrow now. “You still want to kill me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

And that makes him smile.

 

He welcomes her anger. He is happy to see today the spark of the fierce girl he had fallen in love with. Not the vacant eyed, subdued woman Milo had described to him with such concern. He’s a Sith and he knows best how to manage strong emotion. Rey needs to get this out, to vent her rage, to feel her hurt.   She needs to act out and to make a point, just like he had needed to pull his sword on Snoke.  

 

Kylo reaches down to grab Rey’s upper arm to haul her to her feet. She’s wrapped in his arms now, captive in his embrace. And he can feel that she is especially thin these days. All jutting shoulder blades and ribs as his body presses to hers. But bony parts and all, damn she feels good.

 

“This is how it all began for us,” he whispers into her hair. They have come full circle now from that day he found the fugitive Resistance girl in the woods and carried her off. “You’re a much better shot now,” he tells her proudly. Milo’s lessons on the _Finalizer_ had helped. “Good girl.”

 

“Kylo,” she begins.

 

But he doesn’t need any explanation. So he cuts her off and gives her the advice of a Sith. “Shhhh. Don’t think, Rey, just feel. Feel it all.” And she does. Through the Force he feels her sadness, her anger, her frustration. And her comfort too. Feels how much she enjoys being in his arms again even though she would never say it. His Rey has been lonely, this he knows for certain. And he knows how much that must have scared her.

 

Yes, they are two damaged people thrown together by the Force and a war. An accidental family created by his violence and his Master’s manipulations.  But it’s real. He’s the prince who married the pauper in a shotgun wedding and got more than he bargained for. Because even though the First Order commander captured the Resistance girl, he was the one to surrender. He’s got issues, she’s got issues. Yeah, it’s unhealthy and it makes no sense. But it’s real.

 

“Can I take you home?” he asks softly, uncertain of her reply. “Come home, Rey. Let me take you home.”

 

“No.” Her response is muffled into his chest but her meaning is clear.

 

“We don’t have to be together,” he instantly backtracks, willing to make a deal. “I won’t pressure you. I just want you home. For the boys’ sake.” And, yeah, he’s willing to play off her mother’s guilt.

 

But still she refuses. “No.”

 

Kylo Ren is not deterred. He smiles as he steps back and brushes at her hair. “You mean not yet.” He leans in to kiss her softly on her forehead, ignoring her frown. “I won’t give up on you, Rey. I won’t give up on us.”

 

As he turns to walk out, Kylo silently declares this to be progress. He and Rey have shared more today than they have in months, even if it’s in the twisted, fucked up way only they can. He’s the man who conquered the galaxy and he’s a Sith who plots. So Kylo tells himself that he can be patient for things worth waiting for. And he reminds himself that the Force is with him in this. And with them. For if nothing else, the Skywalkers always have the Force on their side.


	15. Chapter 15

When you are a Sith wife, you can't exactly go to marriage counseling and reveal your troubled past. And all the secrets.  And all the lies. So with the help of Balen Phasma, Rey goes to what she hopes is the next best thing. To a woman who will tell it like it is. To a woman whose rough past, she suspects, matches her own. To Cresta Cole.

 

The secret Lady Sidious lives on the Upper Level in a fancy residential building that is directly across the street from the former Imperial Palace. That can't be a coincidence, Rey thinks to herself.

 

The ancient protocol droid Rey remembers from before admits her and walks Rey to his mistress. On the way through the large apartment, Rey sees that it is expensively decorated but full of bold splashes of purple and animal print. There are all sorts of intriguing things displayed here and there, and the walls are covered with colorful abstract artwork. But it’s a small photograph on a random table that claims Rey’s attention as she passes by. It shows a classical dancer in full stage makeup and costume smiling broadly as a red haired man hands her a big bouquet of flowers and leans in to kiss her. There’s something familiar about those two, Rey thinks as she pauses. But then the droid ushers her on. And Rey’s eyes keep wandering over her surroundings. All in all, this place is kind of amazing. No fancy decorator has ever come in to edit down the decor, Rey thinks. It’s exuberant and unapologetic.   And that just adds to Cresta Cole’s appeal as far as Rey is concerned.

 

She likes that Palpatine's wife cares about pleasing herself more than pleasing others. There is something very self-confident about that mindset. And maybe something subversive too.   Rey wonders if Lady Sidious was always this way, or whether it had come with age. Because really, Rey thinks, you've sort of done it all once you have run whorehouses and married an Emperor. And at some point in life surely this woman was old enough and rich enough not to give a damn what anyone thinks.

 

As Rey waits silent and still, her whitehaired hostess in the hoverchair looks her over. The new Empress hadn’t known how to dress to pay a call on the old Empress. But it had seemed fitting to show this woman respect. So Rey stands before Cresta Cole in her long black velvet cape embroidered black on black with the symbol of the First Order. From underneath peeks her best dress—the red formal day gown. Her hair is dressed in the riot of curls Kylo calls her ‘Padme look’ and her face is the soft blend of no-makeup makeup that Rey favors. This is what Rey wore to meet Darth Plagueis and to bury Leia Organa.   And what she wears whenever she appears in public as the lady to her Sith.

 

Her hostess is wearing black, like Rey remembers from her portrait sitting. And her makeup is just as bright and rainbow colored as Rey recalls. What she doesn’t recall from last time is the jewelry.   Lady Sidious has at least four glittery rings on each gnarled hand and her still pretty face is flanked by enormous diamond stud earrings.

 

If the new Empress had defaulted to formality for this occasion, then the old Empress had defaulted to bling.

 

“Won’t you sit down, Empress.” Cresta Cole waves Rey into a nearby chair with all the gravity and elegance of a queen.

 

“I think I should be calling you that,” Rey says softly as she sits.

 

And that remarks prompts a wry smile from Madame Cole. “Only one person ever called me Empress,” she snorts.  “And in the end, he was the only one who mattered.” Palpatine’s wife settles back in her hoverchair and crosses her arms. “So did Ren catch you? Or did you go back?” she wants to know.

 

“Snoke found me.”

 

“That was you in the museum wasn't it? With the Muun?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ha! I thought so. I still read the holonet, girl. Not too old for that.” Madame Cole gives her an appraising look. “Well, you're alive, I see. Did you take my advice?”

 

“Snoke wasn't angry.”

 

“Well, lucky for you then.”   Cresta Cole’s eyes narrow and she observes in the forthright way only old people can, “You don't look very happy. You look miserable. Like you’ve been crying. A lot.”

 

It’s true, and it’s why Rey is here, after all. “I'm not happy,” she whispers. And admitting that aloud is a release in itself. It triggers a flood of tears as long pent-up emotions surface. “I'm so unhappy,” Rey sobs.

 

Here she is confessing this to a cantankerous old lady who she doesn't know. But somehow the secret Sith wife Cresta Cole with her foul mouth and dubious background feels like a safe confidante. If things had gone differently with Snoke, maybe Rey could have sought out Shan Damask for advice. But that woman is intimidating and Rey suspects that the polished former socialite and professor has little understanding of what it truly means to be Rey from Jakku.  As far as Shan may have come in life to start out a Jedi and end up Snoke’s wife, it will never be the amazing journey of self-discovery and hardship that Rey began as a scavenger on Jakku and ended as an Empress at Bast Castle. But this rough talking old dame in her gaudy diamonds and overbright lipstick probably does understand. Rey has never been to the Coruscant Underworld, but she has heard stories.   And she thinks it might not be that different from Jakku in many ways.

 

Plus, Cresta Cole had been very free with her unsolicited advice before. Rey hopes that she will be in a mood to advise again. Rey could use some lessons from the Sith sisterhood.

 

And so Rey's story tumbles out in halting spurts between hiccups, sniffs and sobs. Because people like Rey who bury their feelings deep and stoically suck up the crap life sends their way don’t just cry when they break down. They ugly cry and they overshare.

 

The truth is revealed in its awful, heartbreaking entirely. Jakku, the Resistance, the rape she can't remember, baby Han, Maz Kanata and Kylo Ren. Then Bast Castle, learning from Milo, General Hux, the First Order, a basement hord of holochrons and falling for Kylo Ren.  And torture drugs, a dead baby, executions on the _Finalizer_ and a wartime, distant Kylo Ren. Then burying Leia Organa, sabotage to her shuttle, Luke Skywalker, blaster shots and dying in the arms of Kylo Ren. Rey wakes to a Second Empire, to a mind wiped and filled with lies, and to a loving attentive husband, now Emperor Lord Kylo Ren. Then she has twins, she heals Snoke, she fucks Snoke and the secrets come out and her life falls apart all because of Kylo Ren.

 

Kylo Ren. From beginning to end, it’s all Kylo Ren.

 

Cresta Cole does not interrupt. She listens with rapt attention.

 

When Rey is finished, there is a long sympathetic silence before Madame Cole speaks.

 

“Jakku, huh? You fooled me with that accent of yours. I never would have guessed that you were a scavenger from Jakku.” Madame Cole purses her lips and considers. “Jakku sounds pretty bad. Not Coruscant Underworld bad, but bad.” And now the old lady gives Rey a quizzical look. “Has anything good ever happened to you in your life?”

 

Rey thinks a moment. “I thought Kylo Ren was a good thing.”

 

“Are you so sure he's not?”

 

“Yes.”

 

The old Empress accepts this without rebuttal and moves on. “So, you’re trash like me.” Lady Sidious proclaims this like it’s the highest compliment and Rey instantly understands it as such. “You’re trash but the Muun tolerates it because you have the Force.” The old lady rolls her eyes and it’s a gesture Rey herself might have made. “That’s so typical. The Sith are such fools for the Force.” Madame Cole gives Rey a slightly disgusted look.   “And I see your man missed that lesson about Sith not telling lies. I’ll give that to my Sheev—he never lied to me. Not once.”

 

Years of experience and reflection have given Palpatine’s wife perspective, and she shares it now with Rey. “The Sith are not like you and I. They care nothing for fairness and they think kindness is for the weak. If they show mercy, it is only because it's in their own self-interest   They are obsessive, controlling and vindictive. And violent. My Sheev loved violence. Really, they are the worst sort of men in many ways.”

 

She sighs and then continues. “But they can also be generous, loyal and faithful. Always very protective. They can give you fame, status and luxury. And they can give you love.” Madame Cole looks away and she is lost in memories for a moment. “Lots and lots of twisted, dysfunctional, passionate love. Yeah,” she sighs again, “It’s a fucked up life with a Sith.”

 

Rey couldn’t agree more.

 

Madame Cole leans forward now to look Rey in the eye. “When you’re trash like us, you know all about putting up with shit but not losing who you are in the process. Women like you and I can take care of ourselves. That's how I put up with the worst parts of Sheev. Every now and then he would cross a line and I would kick his ass out. And then he or I would come crawling back and it would be okay for a bit. That’s how things were for us.” She shoots Rey a sad smile. “Yeah, I know all about being stuck with a Sith. Can't live with them, can't live without them.”  

 

“Kylo and I are living separately now,” Rey tells her softly.

 

“Good for you,” Cresta Cole approves. “Take some time and get some space. Just don't make the mistake I made of trying to leave for good.  It won't work. Find a way to make peace with who your man is and what he does so you can make a life.   That's what I did. Sheev and I were on again, off again.  A lot. Because there were times when I needed to be away from him and away from what he did. I never wanted to lose myself to being Lady Sidious. After a while, Sheev understood. And from the beginning, he gave me a long leash.” Madame Cole smiles a little sheepishly over at Rey. “It wasn’t always pretty, but it worked. And when he needed me, I was there for him. And he for me.”

 

“Is that why you were never the Empress? Because you didn’t get along?”

 

The old lady laughs a bit at this suggestion. “No, no. Women like me never get to be Empress.   By the time Sheev and the kid declared their Empire, I was already pretty notorious in my business.  Maybe if I’d followed Sheev’s advice years before and sold out and gone legit . . . or maybe if that prim old Muun hadn’t impressed on my man how much appearances matter. But I'm not the stand still, be quiet and look pretty type you need for an Empress. Shan Damask did that well. You do too. But me? Well, I was never that eager to please.”

 

Rey nods as she thinks through what she has heard. Cresta Cole understands Rey’s plight, of this there is no doubt. But it sounds a lot like she is telling Rey that she has to make the best of life with Kylo. And that is hard advice for Rey to swallow just now.

 

“I will never trust Kylo again after what he did. How can I?”

 

Lady Sidious inhales and then exhales a long breath. “Ah, Rey,” she warns, “Never trust a Sith. They will always betray you somehow in the end. It’s what they do.   For they will never love a woman more than they love power. They will never lust for you more than they lust for their ambitions. And however captivating you are, no woman can ever compete with their precious Force.”

 

“So Palpatine betrayed you?” She’s prying, but Rey can’t help but ask.

 

“Sheev promised over and over again that I would be his Empress one day. That our marriage would be public and to Hell with anyone who would sneer at my past.” Cresta Cole shrugs at this with a nonchalance Rey senses she does not truly feel. “It never came to pass. For a lot of reasons. Rey, sometimes you have to make peace with people who disappoint you. And maybe recognize that you have disappointed them in ways too.” She looks away now as she confides, “Even a Sith can be hurt.”

 

“So I’m supposed to find a way to make it work?” Rey’s voice betrays her skepticism and her lack of enthusiasm.

 

“Look, I was first and foremost a business woman,” Cresta Cole reveals. “So, yes, I know that you can always find a way to make something work. And you two have kids, so yeah, make it work. Ren might surprise you. Once or twice my Sheev surprised me.” She looks curiously at Rey and asks. “Did you take the boys? Or did Ren keep them.”

 

“He’s got them.”

 

Her hostess nods. “Yeah, I figured as much. There’s no way the Muun would ever let your boys out of his control. Force babies are like catnip to the Sith. Back when Sheev and the kid realized that Luke Skywalker was the kid’s son, they were obsessed with finding him. Dumbest thing I ever saw—you steal a baby to raise it in hiding but not change his last name? I mean, they didn’t name him Luke Vader but they might as well because anyone who wanted to look for him would have known the Skywalker connection. The fucking Jedi always were a bunch of idiots.” Cresta Cole snorts at this stupidity.

 

“Yeah . . . I was a mother once briefly,” Lady Sidious reveals and Rey had not known this.   “Look, girl, I’ve done a lot of stuff in my time. Not all of it nice. I’m not real noble and I didn’t give a fuck who ruled the galaxy as long as I got my share. So I have only two regrets. The biggest one is that Sheev and I never got to raise our daughter.” The old dowager levels Rey a serious look. “Listen to me, girl. There’s a lot of things you can fuck up in life and still fix. A career, a marriage, friendships . . . stuff like that. But you can’t fuck up with your kid. That’s not fixable, Rey. So you should be there for your boys. You will regret it later if you are not.”

 

“Daughter?” Rey repeats. “You had a daughter? What happened to her?”

 

“We never knew. She’s long dead now. She would have died about the same time Sheev founded the Empire.”

 

The hard look on Cresta Cole’s face tells Rey to stop this line of questioning. But she can’t resist asking, “What's the other regret?”

 

Madame Cole gives an ugly little grunt and responds airily, “Oh, a man. What else?”

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo should have warned her. When Rey returns to the apartment, she opens the first of about ten messages he sent this morning to her datapad and her heart stops.

_They're two, they're four, they're six, they're eight,_

_Hauling freight through hyperspace,_

_Red and brown and green and blue,_

_They're the Empire's useful crew . . ._

 

This isn't another video of Hego and Bane levitating cheerios with the Force at breakfast while an offscreen Kylo eggs them on. It's Sheev Ren singing the Thomas the Transport song in a video sent to Daddy who was gone on a mission.  

 

Rey can’t look away. She watches it over and over again. Memorizing it.

 

Milo's voice is in the background, so he must be holding the camera. The video seems to have been taken while Rey was captive with the Resistance because Sheev ends it by asking "Is Mommy ever coming home? I want Mommy."   And that makes Rey uncomfortably aware that she has one-year old twins at Bast right now who would ask the same thing if they could only talk more.

 

Rey starts clicking on the other messages. There are pictures of Sheev and Milo exploring the _Finalizer_.  Sheev in the commissary looking very pleased to eat lunch with the rank and file of the crew. Sheev in the engine room, in the officer's lounge, on the bridge, in the hangar bay.   Kylo Ren's little son had free rein to explore his father's flagship and his surrogate grandfather Milo had taken full advantage to amuse the sad little boy while his mother was gone.  And along the way, Milo had taken lots of pictures.

 

Mixed in among the _Finalizer_ adventures are lots of silly selfies with Sheev making faces and holding up toys. Rey is in some of them, acting just as goofy.   These are the ridiculous things that had amused a three-year-old and Mommy had played along for the laugh.   Rey had always been willing to get down on the floor with the toys to be the playmate her only child Sheev had needed.

 

Rey slowly clicks through all the messages. The files are a collection of private family moments. A peek behind the scenes of the Ren family during the grim and costly final months of the war. And, as it turns out, these were the final months of their little boy.

 

Kylo must have wiped these files from her datapad the way Snoke had wiped Sheev from her mind. But Kylo had kept them for himself. Rey wonders if these memories bring him comfort or torment? Or perhaps a little of both?

 

For Rey, they bring comfort.  Yes, the pain of Sheev’s loss is fresh and it stings deeply. But she’s smiling through her tears as she watches the little boy she had loved so much.   At the very least, she has this now to remember him by.

 

So as her freely flowing tears drip onto the screen of her datapad, Rey types back a two word message to Kylo. “Thank you.” She means it.


	16. Chapter 16

Ever since Rey received the message from Milo that he and Madame Snoke would be arriving at the Coruscant apartment today, Rey has been nervous. What do you say to a woman who has been dead almost ninety years? What do you say to a woman whose husband you have slept with?   What do you say to a woman who last saw you choking your own husband as you knelt on his chest and screamed every obscenity you could think of?  

 

Rey is certain that she has not made a good first impression.

 

Plus, seeing Shan Damask in those first few vulnerable moments awake is probably not seeing the real woman. Snoke’s wife can’t really be that nice. She is a fully trained Old Republic Jedi Knight, an Ivy League professor and long ago she was a preeminent social figure of her day. Snoke built an empire for this woman. Yes, all in all, Shan Damask is a very intimidating figure for all sorts of reasons.

 

So Rey stands inside the apartment once again formally attired in her Sith cape and red dress reluctantly ready to receive the wife of the Supreme Leader. She hears the whine of ion engines shutting down as the First Order shuttle lands. And Rey feels the little ripple in the Force that betrays the presence of the Jedi woman. Then the outermost door of the apartment slides open and a woman’s laugh floats through. Fast, heavy footsteps ring out on the hard floor.

 

“My Gods, Milo! I can’t believe this place is still here!”   Milo’s low, dignified tones make it hard to understand his reply, but the woman who must be Shan Damask laughs again and keeps chattering on.   “Yes, we sure did. Remember the time Snoke drank Finis Valorum under the table and the Senator had to be carried out? Snoke had a hollow leg for wine back in those days, remember? Not any more, he claims.   But I don’t believe him.” The voices are getting closer now. “Say, I like this black and white décor. It looks new. Is it new? Very chic, Milo. Dark and Light. Now, let’s go find—oh!”

 

The pair stumble upon Rey. And she and Shan Damask blink at one another in surprise.

 

Madame Snoke looks a lot taller when she is standing up. That’s the first impression Rey has. Yes, she can see how Shan Damask is a good match for Snoke. Together they must be very striking in person, dominating with their physical presence. Because, really, this woman is just plain huge.

 

“Good morning,” Rey says with a regal nod that she practiced in the mirror this morning. She’s in full ceremonial Lady Ren mode. Hoping her very best to make a better impression this time around.   And, if possible, to avoid an ugly scene.

 

“Hi there,” her guest smiles back like they are old friends. “Thank you for letting me barge in on you like this.”

 

Madame Snoke is dressed like something out of a time warp. She's wearing black knee high fringed boots in some sort of lizard skin and the matching fringed bag is slung diagonally across her body. Her dress is a stiff velvet and brocade fabric that’s crusted with embroidery. The dress has a short knee length hemline and bell shaped sleeves that even Rey from Jakku knows haven't been in fashion for many decades. Altogether, it is a strange mix of exotic textures and ornate fabrics like something Padme Skywalker might have worn. And the jewelry--she's got three bracelets stacked on one wrist, a big green ring on her other hand and gigantic earrings on. All in all, the effect is too much. Rey blinks at her for a moment before she recovers.

 

And Shan Damask bursts out laughing at this reaction. "See, I told you I look ridiculous, Milo!” she accuses the old keeper. Then she turns back to Rey, “Milo saved everything," she explains with a grin. "Everything! This is vintage couture now. Very Late Republic, I think they call it."

 

Rey nods. Of course, this woman’s clothes would be many decades old and hopelessly outdated. After non-stop war in the wake of the Empire, the galaxy’s prevailing design aesthetic is now spare and disciplined. There isn't a print or a bold trim to be found on modern designer clothes. Luxury today is sleek, shiny and unadorned. And while a fashionable lady today might wear a tunic and slacks casually in public, she would never wear a knee length dress. Uniformly, hemlines and sleeves are long. Skin is not in.  So Snoke’s wife looks like a combination of frumpy meets underdressed.

 

"Back in the day, Madame was something of a fashion plate,” Milo volunteers and he says this information in a way that makes Rey think it is a gross understatement. At his side, the Muun giantess blushes sheepishly, as though embarrassed by this disclosure. Like fashionable clothes are something frivolous she ought to be above. But isn’t.

 

"I think times have changed," she surmises, eyeing Rey's somber cape and gown. “And that’s why we’re here.   I’ve done two months of non-stop physical therapy with the medics. Now it’s time for some retail therapy.” She smiles. "You must come with us. I will need your guidance, Empress," she invites Rey. "Sales ladies are always somewhat suspect in their motives. You must be sure to be ruthless with your opinions."

 

Rey doesn’t know what to make of this invitation. Does this mean they are not going to talk about the fact that Rey has slept with Snoke? That they are not going to talk about that ugly scene when Shan Damask was awakened? And does Snoke’s wife truly want to go shopping? Like a normal person in public? Is this even allowed?

 

Once Rey had ventured out incognito to a museum and the holonet had gone nuts. She can’t imagine what it will be like to casually appear in public as the actual Empress. This is way out of Rey’s comfort zone, for sure. And she remembers that Snoke had told her to keep a low profile.

 

“I have never been shopping before," Rey says softly. "I doubt that I will be much help to you, ma'am."

 

"Are you not a shopper?" Shan Damask wants to know. “I wasn’t at first either. The Jedi weren’t much for appearance. But,” she smiles girlishly. “Hego Damask is.”

 

"I have never had the opportunity," Rey explains. This comes out a little stiffly, but Rey suddenly feels at a disadvantage compared to this woman who she suspects is much more cosmopolitan than she. How do you casually explain that as Kylo’s wife you have never had the freedom to do simple things like shop in public? That you have spent a great deal of your marriage as a prisoner in his castle, then a prisoner of the Resistance, and then stuck on a star destroyer. Rey settles on this: “I have never lived in a city.”

 

"Well that makes perfect sense if there was a war going on,” Shan Damask accepts Rey’s explanation easily. “Lord Ren would want to keep you safe. Do you just order things off the holonet then?" she asks innocently.

 

Rey shifts her stance. She’s increasingly uncomfortable now. "Milo chooses my clothes, ma'am."

 

And the socially astute Muun socialite doesn’t miss a beat. “Yes, I see what great taste Milo has. How elegant you are. And, please, call me Shan." More and more, Rey sees that Snoke's wife has a very casual demeanor. This is unexpected for such a grand lady. "The pilot on the shuttle this morning called me Missus Leader and I had no idea who he was talking to." She laughs again. Snoke’s wife laughs a lot, Rey thinks. "I told Snoke that I thought Supreme Leader was a bit grandiose. That only he would think up such an excessive title."

 

And this strikes Rey as a daring statement. She can't imagine telling the Muun Sith that he is grandiose. He would probably bust out the blue lightning again for that offense.

 

“Won’t you please come with us?” Shan asks again. Behind her Milo nods yes to Rey to signal that she should accept. Rey knows it would be churlish to refuse. So gamely she agrees.

 

"Yes, of course. It would be my pleasure,” Rey responds formally. But then hastens to add a caveat, “I don't know anything about fashion."

 

Madame Snoke is undeterred. "Well, you're in luck, because I do. Let's bring some glamour to this new Empire, shall we?   These times call for a new beginning. A chance to bring back some beauty after decades of war."

 

"Oh." And now Rey senses there is far more afoot here than just shopping.

 

Ten minutes later, Rey, Shan, Milo and an enormous number of stormtroopers are on Coruscant’s fanciest high street. It looks like they are invading the place, rather than out for a leisurely morning of shopping. It’s attracting a lot of attention but Shan Damask doesn’t seem to care. Rey has no idea where they are going, but the Leader’s wife clearly does. Her easy confidence is sort of inspiring, Rey thinks.

 

Shan Damask has produced a long hooded black cape very similar to Rey’s. And now Rey thinks she knows where Milo had gotten the idea for her own. Together she and Shan are hooded and concealed from prying eyes. They alight from the speeder and are whisked into a boutique.

 

The stormtroopers, the hooded cloak embroidered with the First Order emblem—it’s all a dead giveaway for who Rey is. So as she sweeps back her hood to reveal her face, the assembled sales ladies instantly lower their gaze respectfully and bow their heads. “Your Excellency,” they gasp in near unison at their surprise customer.

 

“Good morning,” Rey begins. Her usual job as Empress is to stand silent at Kylo’s side, so this is new to her. She takes a deep breath. “We require some dresses,” she says haltingly. Then Rey bites her lip. Uncertain as to how to proceed in this setting.

 

Beside her, Shan Damask must think this sounds more like a First Order supply procurement mission than fun, so she throws back her hood and happily announces, “We’re here to shop. Show us the good stuff.”

 

“Of course,” the oldest of the sales ladies nods. “How honored we are by your presence, Empress. If you will just give your maid your cloak, we will have the droid scan your measurements. Step over here and you can see our latest arrivals for fall.”

 

Maid? They think Snoke’s wife is her lady in waiting? Rey darts a worried glance over at Shan Damask but the Muun lady says nothing. Her dark eyes are twinkling though as she accepts Rey’s cloak. And perhaps she sees Rey’s hesitation, because Snoke’s wife takes charge.

 

“The Empress will be making more appearances and she will need a lot of clothes,” Shan informs the lead saleslady as she begins swiping through a datapad look book at a furious pace, sizing up outfits and dresses at a glance. “May we see these please for our Empress?” Shan hands the datapad back to the saleslady.   In a matter of only a few minutes, she has compiled a lengthy list of options. “And see if you can find something extra special for a formal occasion. Something memorable that will photograph well.”

 

Since the Empress has a model figure in a sample size, she will be able to try on anything she wants, the saleslady promises. She ushers Shan and Rey into a large dressing room. Then everyone scurries away to collect the garments.

 

It’s just her and Snoke’s wife now. Shan speaks in a low voice. “Rey, Snoke is planning to introduce our family to the galaxy. We will no longer hide in the shadows.  And your Lord Ren will no longer wear his mask except in battle.”

 

“I don’t understand.” This is all news to Rey.

 

“The Sith will build up where once they tore down.   Restoring cities and worlds. Fostering learning, art and culture. We will unify the galaxy in ways other than just war.”

 

Rey raises an eyebrow at this. The Sith are the people who brought the galaxy two Death Stars and a Starkiller, after all.

 

Shan does not react to Rey’s skepticism. Instead, she herself looks excited. “Snoke plotted his war, and now he is plotting a civilization. He wants an Imperial court of culture and learning. It will be inclusive this time, not like when Sidious restricted everything just to humans.” The pretty Muun woman confides, “I think my Snoke wants his old life back. He’s gotten bored being on the sidelines for so long.”

 

Culture and learning? Those are two topics Rey knows nothing about. “So the Supreme Leader is going to make us all go to the opera?” she asks tentatively. Rey is still not understanding what all this entails.

 

“Maybe,” Shan laughs. “But we'll be the ones stuck watching it while he goes off and plots. The most my husband ever sat through was one act before he was out of the box and scheming in the hallway with someone.” She looks happy at these memories. “I’m sure it will be the same again. That man is a talker. He would go on and on talking to everyone in the room at a party. Well, all the important people.”

 

And this depiction is hard to reconcile with the reclusive, laconic Sith Master Rey knows.

 

“Kylo is not going to like this culture stuff,” Rey worries.

 

“Oh, he'll be scheming too.” Shan Damask gives her a knowing look. “We’ll be the ones who get stuck watching the culture. Make no mistake, Rey. Being Empress will be a kind of a job. There's a lot of effort that goes into standing before cameras and being on display night after night." Rey looks at her blankly, not really comprehending what Snoke’s wife means. Just what exactly are Snoke and Shan planning?  Her trepidation grows at the next comment. "How do you feel about public speaking, Rey? Are you open to that?"

 

Rey doesn't know how to respond. But Shan Damask keeps talking anyway.

 

"I have hired a social secretary for us. I met with the head of PR for the First Order last month and all he seems to understand is military parades. Everything up until now has been a show of force. And executions.” Shan Damask makes a face at this. “We're moving past that now. So I'm bringing on someone from the private sector to help with scheduling and events." She gives Rey an understanding look. "You can do as little or as much as you wish. Snoke and I know that you have the little Ren at home to take care of." Shan has a bittersweet smile to her face now.   She must be remembering her dead son. "Those early years are so special, Rey. You should enjoy every moment. They go fast."

 

Now the saleslady is back with her assistants and armfuls of clothes. They start to hang them on a rack and it’s evident that they are a departure from what Rey normally wears. For starters, there are very few sleeves. One even looks like it has an open back. Rey frowns.

 

Snoke’s wife sees her unease. "These are just some things to try, Rey. Something fresh and new. But we can keep looking if there’s nothing here you like.”

 

Rey eyes the dresses with skepticism. They are way outside her comfort zone. Plus, Rey thought that they were here to shop for Shan, not herself.

 

“Would you ever wear something a little less covered?” Snoke’s lady ventures.  “Your slim figure is made for high fashion. And there is nothing vulgar here, I assure you.”

 

Behind her, Rey can sense the sales ladies bristle at the very suggestion that their wares are anything but the best of taste. Rey turns to them. “Leave us,” she gives her best Kylo-in-command impression. The women trip over their feet to withdraw.  Even Shan Damask looks impressed at this unexpected gravitas.

 

When they are gone, Rey looks up at the Muun glamazon who towers over her. Rey decides to be honest. “I have always worn long sleeves and high collars. For a long time they were what I was most comfortable in.” Snoke’s wife nods at this and then Rey goes for complete honesty. “They hid my scars, Shan."

 

Snoke’s wife blanches at this statement.

 

Rey thinks of the silvery and pink healed marks that covered her arms and legs from scavenging, of the unevenly healed gashes on her back from Unkar Plutt, and of the unmistakable surgical line on the nape of her neck from the First Order slave collar.   The Empress looks down at the floor in humiliation as she reveals, “Jakku was harsh. So was Kylo at first."

 

"Oh, Rey."

 

"They're gone now. The scars were all fixed when I . . . uh . . . died. But I guess I still dress to cover them." Some scars are more than skin deep, Rey thinks. You can erase the evidence but not the hurt.   But the Sith had tried, just like they had tried to erase her little son. It is a foolish endeavor, because the past never truly leaves you. Especially if you’re in the Skywalker clan, Rey thinks sourly.

 

But it’s not the past that worries Rey, it’s the future. Because her distress is not really about dresses with no sleeves. "I'm not sure who I am anymore.” This comes out as a whispered confession. And to her horror, Rey starts to cry. It’s so easy to cry these days.

 

First, she had been the tough scavenger girl with a jaded eye that hid a tender heart. Then, she had been the struggling single mother hiding a desperate secret. Next, the prisoner baby mama to the galaxy’s chief thug. Then, suddenly, she was his beloved wife and soon-to-be Empress. Her life with Kylo Ren had kept evolving and changing fast. But now Jakku is long gone and their oldest boy is gone too and the happy marriage along with it. So where does that leave her? Rey still has two children to mother and a Sith husband she tried to shoot last week. And everyone seems to expect Rey to stand up next to him and smile for the cameras as if everything is perfect.

 

Reflexively, Rey opens her left palm and stares down at the mark that means forever. Once it was a promise of a happy future, now it seems like a prison sentence.

 

Rey is standing there, staring down at her hand, when Shan Damask silently moves to envelope Rey in her sturdy frame. It’s a big, motherly hug. The kind of hug Rey never had a little girl. And standing chest high on this giant Muun, Rey feels a bit like a little lost girl.

 

“I understand, Rey,” Shan Damask says softly. “More than you know. I too discovered a dead son. And I woke up to a galaxy completely changed.   Snoke was planning a war when I died. Now I find out it was just one of many wars.”

 

Rey sniffs and starts to babble. She always babbles when she cries. “The last thing I remember was getting shot. And Kylo. Kylo was there in my mind with me.  He was telling me that he l-loved me. But how could he love me if he k-k-killed our son?”

 

Shan too has haunting memories to share. “The last thing I remember was staring at the stumps of my arms. At my severed hand lying on the bed next to me. Oh, Gods!” Snoke’s wife shudders visibly at the gruesome memory. Now Shan too is fighting back tears. Rey can feel her big body trembling. “Sheev kept swinging, Rey. I must have been in shock. I don't think I even felt the pain. Only the horror. I heard Snoke call my name. Then nothing more.”

 

This Muun woman is basically a stranger to Rey and vis-a-versa. But together they stand in a loose embrace in the dressing room of an exclusive Coruscant boutique. Two Sith wives crying as they trade tales of the horrors they have separately seen and endured.

 

“I wish that he had let me die,” Rey wails. “So Sheev could live.” She’s ugly crying now. For certain her makeup is running everywhere.  

 

“All I know is dead people, Rey,” Shan tells her. “I've spent days googling on the holonet to find out what happened to the people I used to know. San Hill, Clu and Vanata Lesser, Nute Gunray, Mas Amedda, the Toniths. . . “   She keeps saying names Rey has never heard of.   “Dooku, my Master Jocasta Nu, Yoda, even little Obi-Wan Kenobi . . .  Everyone I have ever known other than Milo and my husband are dead.“

 

Cresta Cole is still alive, Rey thinks to herself. But she’s not about to bring up Darth Sidious’ wife after Shan has so vividly recalled her death at his hands. So instead, Rey starts talking about Kylo. She can’t stop thinking of Kylo ever since he appeared unannounced at the apartment last week.

 

“I really did love him. After all we had been through. After everything he had done. I still loved him. I didn’t approve of most of what he did, but I understood it. Kylo really does believe in the First Order. Yes, he wants to rule the galaxy, but he also wants to make things better. And during war . . . well, bad things happen.” Rey thinks back to her torture at the hands of the Resistance. “Both sides did bad things.”

 

And it seems that Shan Damask too is conflicted about her Sith. “I knew what he was planning, Rey. I even helped in small ways. The galaxy thought I was just another rich, vain socialite. But I knew more about the inner workings of the Senate than the majority whip. I guess I just never thought it would all come to pass. It never seemed very imminent, Rey. And then I wake up to find that it all happened and more. And it was far more deadly and horrible than I ever could possibly have imagined.   And what he did to you, Rey. That was just so . . . so . . .“

 

Rey stiffens and pulls back now. This is the conversation she has been dreading. And now that it’s upon her, Rey is very uncomfortable. She whirls away.

 

“Please—don’t—“ Rey throws up a hand as if to ward off Shan’s words physically. Rey is in no shape to have this conversation now.

 

And Shan Damask shuts up immediately. She’s very good with social cues, Rey has noticed. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I just—I mean, do we have to—is it alright if we just—“

 

“We don’t have to talk about it, Rey.”

 

And Rey exhales an audible sigh of relief. “Do you hate me?” she asks in a small voice.

 

Snoke’s wife sighs heavily. “Of course not. It wasn’t your fault. Snoke is to blame.” Rey turns back to face Shan and sees the resignation in her pretty face.   The Muun woman looks to be frozen in time in her late thirties or maybe early forties, but for a moment she truly looks old. “Both of our husbands have done terrible things to save our lives, Rey. Terrible things.”

 

And this is a commonality that Rey had not realized until now. Yes, Kylo had killed his own son to revive his wife. And Snoke had raped and coerced Rey into bed to revive his wife. The Dark, it seems, will stop at nothing to resurrect its crutch of Light. Such are the obsessive, possessive Sith.

 

Rey whispers aloud, “Kylo tells me he did it because he loves me. And that he would do it again.”

 

“Snoke says the same thing, Rey. The very same thing.”

 

“Do you hate him for it?” Rey wants to know.

 

“Yes. A little.” The Muun woman thinks a moment. “Well, sometimes a lot.”

 

“Do you think you will ever forgive him for it?” Rey is prying now, but she needs to know. “Do you sometimes want to forgive him for it?” she whispers.

 

“Rey,” Shan sits down heavily on the couch in the dressing room and again she sighs. Then she looks up with what looks like admiration in her eyes. “Snoke told me a little of your past. You are a very forgiving woman. More so than I would be in your circumstances. But forgiveness is the nature of the Light. And it's fitting for a healer such as yourself. You have a rare and prized gift, Rey, to be able to heal the body so miraculously.   Forgiveness is a gift too. It’s how you heal the heart.” Snoke’s wife looks wistful now. “My husband will never be the man I want him to be. I made peace with that long ago.” She shrugs a little but frowns. “He is Sith. But there is still much to admire about him. And, well, for the not so admirable things, I forgive them where I can. And sometimes, I just have to accept them. Or maybe even ignore them.”

 

Rey nods at this wisdom. It reminds her of the advice from Crest Cole. And maybe it’s just a coping mechanism, but if it works and you can be happy then maybe it’s alright. It’s not like there are a lot of choices with the Sith.

 

And looking at this woman who belongs to another time and to the bygone Jedi sect, Rey wonders how she could have possibly ended up with Snoke.   Love is a strange, strange thing, Rey thinks. Maybe it doesn’t make sense to an objective outside observer, but it can still be real. She thinks back to the scared looking Snoke who hovered over his waking wife. Yes, Darth Plagueis loves this woman. Of that, there is no doubt. But why does she love him back?

 

“Rey, I know that we don’t really know each other. So I don’t want to presume too much. But you don't accidentally fall in love with a man. Attachment is always a choice at some point. Whether we admit it to ourselves or not.” Rey smiles at Shan’s use of the formal Jedi terminology. She remembers Kylo once talking of the Jedi Order’s ban on attachment. Long ago, it had been the undoing to Darth Vader.

 

“I didn't know who Snoke was when I met him. I thought he was some overly aggressive Wall Street type with a thing for ancient history. I was half in love with him before I learned that he was Sith. But then I found out pretty quickly what he was capable of. If he had been an ordinary man, I would have left him immediately. But he was Sith and well, there was no real leaving him. I tried. That was a mistake. In the end, I only truly fell in love with Snoke after we had both hurt each other.” Her voice trails off and she looks away lost in the past. Then she turns back to Rey. “Love isn’t just a one-time decision, Rey. It’s a commitment you keep making over and over again throughout your life.” She gives a wry half smile now. “And with the Sith, it can be a real leap of faith sometimes.”

 

Rey says nothing.

 

“So is it a real separation now?” Shan asks. “Is Snoke is letting it be official? Will it be public?”

 

“Huh?” Rey is confused.

 

“You don't wear your wedding ring,” Shan explains. “People will notice that, Rey. I used to live a very public life. I know all about media scrutiny.”

 

Wedding ring? What wedding ring? “I never had a ring,” Rey explains.

 

Snoke’s wife looks scandalized. “Really?”

 

“I don't own any jewelry.” Rey cracks a small sheepish smile. “I’m a lousy Empress, Shan. The public will be disappointed. I don’t own a lot of fancy clothes and I don’t own any jewelry.”

 

Shan digests this information. She’s clearly taken aback. “Back when I was alive, the Sith were very concerned with keeping up appearances.   They hid in the open, so Snoke was a stickler for meeting people’s expectations. Of course, it wasn’t wartime then. So no one raised an eyebrow at indulgences. Your era is different, Rey. Much more austere.” She looks Rey over and decides, “Well, I guess times have changed. Let’s choose a gorgeous dress for you for Snoke’s big reveal and no one will notice what’s not on your finger. They’ll probably all be staring at your husband unmasked anyway.”

 

A thought occurs to Rey. “The crystal from your wedding ring is in Kylo’s sword now.”

 

“Oh, Snoke made me a new one.” Shan Damask holds out her left hand. She has a green kyber crystal ring on her fourth finger. “It’s from Luke Skywalker’s lightsaber. Snoke thought I should wear it since I’m the last of the Jedi.”

 

And Rey thinks that seems very Sith. Snoke has his wife wear a trophy from his slain nemesis on her finger. The ring simultaneously proclaims that Snoke owns Shan and that he has had the Jedi Luke Skywalker killed.   His own grandson in the Force. It’s possession and aggression rolled into one. With the added twist of a dead Skywalker.

 

“So . . . what do we do now?” Rey asks with a sigh. Looking over, Rey realizes that Shan Damask too looks like she has been crying. The sales ladies are going to have a field day speculating about the cause.

 

The Muun woman’s eyes wander over to the rack full of clothes. “This is why they call it retail therapy, Rey. Let’s spend some of the Siths’ money. You and I could each use a new beginning. And this Second Empire is a new beginning. So let’s start fresh here. Now.”

 

And it occurs to Rey that just being outside the apartment is something of a new beginning for her. Maybe, Rey thinks, she ought to start exploring her freedom more. For if Snoke’s wife can venture out, why can’t Rey? Maybe it’s time for Rey to start making more choices of her own. There haven’t been real choices in her life for a long time now, Rey realizes. Not since the Sith.

 

So today she will start with dresses. Really, there’s no need for Milo to choose her wardrobe. “No more red and black,” Rey decides suddenly. “I have had enough of this,” she gestures down at the blood red silk day gown that Kylo likes so much. “And I’m tired of looking like a walking advertisement for the First Order.” Tired of looking like the dutiful Sith wifey, she adds to herself.

 

“No red, no black,” Shan agrees. And Rey thinks that this easygoing woman is so likable. And such a contrast to the usual drama of the Sith.

 

“What about you?” Rey asks her new friend.

 

“I would just like to look like I belong in the right century,” Shan grins. “And I want a silver dress. Snoke likes a silver dress.” She thinks back to some private memory. “I once got a lot of mileage out of a silver dress.”

 

“Let’s ask for one,” Rey suggests. “I’m sure they have something in silver.”

 

But Shan shakes her head no. “Rey, they won’t have anything off the rack here that fits me. These Coruscant designers cater to the human woman. There's nothing here for a plus size two meter Muun like myself.” Shan gestures to the rack of clothes. “You try it all on and anything that looks awful on you will probably flatter me. I’ll just order it made to my measurements.”

 

A discrete knock sounds at the door now and the saleslady enters. If she notices that Rey and Shan have both been crying, she doesn't let on. But maybe women cry all the time in dressing rooms, Rey thinks. Especially when they see these prices.

 

“Here you go.” The saleslady adds even more clothes to the already full rack. “Would you like me to send in a girl to help or will your maid be assisting you?

 

"I will assist her Excellency," Shan inserts with a smile and a covert wink to Rey.

 

"We do have something new you might like to try for your event." The saleslady holds up a white sparkly column style dress. Rey looks it over. The arms are completely out but the high neck, closed back and simple style look reasonably covered. What the heck--maybe she should get out of her comfort zone. And it's white. Rey likes that.

 

"Oooooh! Is that the dress from page 17?" Shan wants to know. She shows the saleslady something on the datapad catalog of the season's designs. "This one?"

 

"Yes."

 

“Hmmmm.” Snoke’s wife considers for a long moment. "We'll have to be careful with the camera angles on this one."   But Shan Damask looks up to tell Rey, "Don't worry. We'll find your best angles. Before long, you'll know how to hit your mark on the step and repeat. It will be second nature."

 

Huh? Rey has no idea what that means.

 

Shan Damask grins conspiratorially with the saleslady. Then she reaches for the sparkly white gown. "Empress, let’s try this one on first. We may have found your silver dress."


	17. Chapter 17

The Sith have long walked freely among us, but no longer will they hide.For at today’s press conference, the Supreme Leader himself is revealed.And at his side stands the feared Kylo Ren unmasked.The entire galaxy is glued to the holonet watching with bated breath.Staring and wondering at the two men garbed in matching black surcoats.And tonight at an exclusive gathering tucked away in the old Senatorial portion of the Upper Level, a privileged few will meet the duo who led the First Order to victory, toppled a Republic and conquered the Resistance.

The Supreme Leader, the ultimate power, is of course the older of the two. But youngish nonetheless for this sort of thing. The mysterious figure turns out to be a slightly battered but still handsome looking Muun.He has an engaging charm and an easy smile even if his eyes are sharp and his words measured.He's the sort of man who puts you at ease and makes you comfortable as he tells you things you don't want to hear in that low, slow voice of his.He's a Muun and everyone knows Muuns are as crafty as they come.

Then there is the Jedi Killer Kylo Ren, unmasked at long last.He's human and absurdly young--still in his thirties--and as menacing without the helmet as he is with.All dark hair and dark eyes and impatient dark glares. Who knows how Ren got that slashing scar, but it reminds the galaxy at a glance that this man is a warrior.He is the chief enforcer of the First Order.A man renowned for his casual violence to his own men and his vicious retribution to his enemies.Don't call his bluff, for he is not a man to cross. 

Together, they are the good cop and bad cop of the galaxy.A one-two punch of power.If the strategy and the deal making of the Leader does not convince you, then perhaps the death and destruction of the Emperor will.But either way, you lose.It is best to submit to the Sith.

So hours later as Milo finishes the final instructions to the catering staff and as the security line outside Snoke’s Coruscant apartment begins to form, Kylo strides into the main reception room.He’s just in time to see Snoke's wife enter from the opposing doorway.

Kylo can’t help but stare a moment.Shan Damask has the walk of a runway model but the figure of a burlesque dancer.And all of that combined with her two-meter height makes her an eyeful. Kylo watches as Snoke's wife crosses the room and she doesn't so much walk as she undulates.All rolling hips, swaying tits and swishing hem.Like some Muun teenaged boy’s wet dream, he thinks.

He wouldn't have recognized Snoke's wife as the same dowdy woman he saw hanging out in her husband's library in bare feet and borrowed clothes.Tonight she's wearing a long sleeved silver gown that hugs her very developed figure before it flares gracefully to the floor.The shoulders and upper arms of the dress are cut out to show plenty of skin and, he suspects, to divert attention away from her still healing hands and arms.But between the king's ransom in diamonds that hangs from her ears and her eye popping physique, Kylo thinks no one will notice the faint scars still visible on this woman's hands. 

Yes, this is the pretty, polished socialite Kylo had expected based on the old holonet pictures Rey once had showed him.Shan Damask looks like the type of woman who his all-business princess mother would have felt smugly superior about.Because Leia Organa could be self-righteous like that.Snoke's wife is a strange combination of stately and sexy, he realizes.Elegant and ladylike but undeniably hot. 

Well, hot if you are into towering thick women, which Kylo is not.He likes his women lean and shorter than himself.Well, really, Kylo likes his women to look like Rey. To be Rey.

 

Shan Damask smiles hello and he just nods curtly and looks away.Kylo’s mind is on Rey tonight.She’s here somewhere, for he can feel her Force imprint close by.

Snoke walks in behind him and crosses the room to drop a kiss on his wife's proffered cheek.This salute is the easy, intimate gesture of a longstanding couple who are still very much in love.Seeing their obvious contentment pisses Kylo off.Because it had come at the expense of his own.Clearly, Snoke's Jedi wife has his Master wrapped around her stiff unfeeling fingers. 

It’s weird for Kylo to contemplate Snoke as a person and not merely as his Master.For so many years now, Darth Plagueis has been his mentor, his surrogate father and his authority figure.But now that Snoke’s body has been rejuvenated, his past uncovered, and his wife revived, Kylo has begun to see him in a different light.And more and more, he sees Snoke in new settings outside his stronghold lair.He’s no longer enthroned up high in his audience chamber or lurking in his library.Darth Plagueis is out and about in the world and, as of today, revealed to the galaxy.He’s more than just the cold and calculating Sith recluse who sets conflicts in motion and then sits back to watch them unfold.Now Snoke is in the mix, stirring the pot.And loving every minute of it, as far as Kylo can tell.The war that had so consumed him had bored his Master, Kylo now sees.Darth Plagueis had been biding his time to rule.

"Where's Rey?" Kylo complains and, as if on cue, his estranged wife walks in.Rey ignores him and dutifully goes to greet the Supreme Leader and Madame Snoke.But Kylo doesn’t notice the slight because he is busy taking it all in.

Wow.Rey is gorgeous tonight in her white glittering gown with a high neck and bare arms.He sees the hand of Snoke's wife in this, for never once has he known his Rey to show any skin in public. And while the dress is demure like everything Rey wears, as she walks forward he can see that it is sleek and it clings.She’s wearing very high heeled sandals that look nothing like the practical flat slippers and boots Kylo is used to seeing his wife wear.On the whole, Rey is dressed far more sexy and fashionable than Kylo has ever seen.

He digests this thoughtfully, wondering if it hints at a deeper meaning.Like that Rey wants him back but is too proud to say it with words so she’s saying it with clothes.Yes, that must explain it.And actually, he kind of likes this look for Rey.It shows a confidence about her beauty that he knows his scavenger girl does not feel. She looks sophisticated.And her hair caught up in that soft bun makes her look regal.It’s the perfect combination for the galaxy's young ingénue Empress.

And then Rey turns to the side to say something to Shan and Kylo gapes at what he sees.He does a double take.Is that side boob he sees??

"What the Hell, Rey?What have you got on?"

The high necked covered bodice is completely open at the sides.And Rey isn't wearing a bra.It's the same with the skirt.From mid-thigh down on both sides the skirt is slit open to give any man an eyeful when Rey strides past.Is she even wearing panties, he wonders. 

From the front, the dress is perfectly decorous, maybe even severe.But from the side, the dress is way too sexy for his Empress.Well, maybe it would be fine at home in private for him. But it is completely inappropriate in public. Especially for an occasion like this when the whole galaxy will be watching. Tonight is supposed to reveal the galaxy's leadership in a celebratory and relaxed social situation.It’s a chance for a select few VIPs to meet the Supreme Leader and Kylo Ren.But all anyone is going to remember is his half naked wife.

Kylo marches over.He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down at her with extreme annoyance.Wait--how high are those heels?He's almost looking across at Rey and not down at her.And that makes him frown too.It's like standing next to Captain Phasma. Or Madame Snoke.And really, women shouldn't be so tall.It seems a bit . . . challenging. 

"Go and change, Rey."This comes out as an order barked at a subordinate."And hurry.We don't have much time."

Rey is looking at him with wide blinking eyes.“Change?”She looks hurt and something about the set of her shoulders slumps. She visibly stiffens. 

“Are you even wearing anything under that dress?" Kylo demands.

And now an amused sounding Snoke takes an interest in this conversation."Never ask a lady that, Apprentice," the Muun advises sagely."They find it rude and, really, it spoils the surprise for later."Then his Master nods at Rey and Kylo can’t mistake the gleam in his eye."You are especially lovely tonight, Empress.The galaxy will love you."

Kylo frowns at being countermanded.And he doesn’t want to hear Snoke compliment Rey.He opens his mouth to speak but the Supreme Leader beats him to it.

"Grace and beauty enhance power, Lord Ren, but they will never upstage it.”His Master grins appreciatively over at Rey and Madame Snoke.“And by the looks of these two ladies, we are much enhanced tonight."

And that ends that.Rey wears the dress.

 

But all evening long, Kylo’s eyes follow her.Rey has her full Lady of the Castle routine going.The easy smile, the regal nod, the smooth glide across the room even in those high heeled sandals that look more like they belong on a stripper than his Empress.Rey likely recognizes only five faces in this party of three hundred.But that doesn't outwardly faze her. 

Rey looks effortlessly poised and no one but himself knows how hard fought this is for her.How much insecurity lies beneath her socially adept façade.Kylo knows that big crowds like this make his long solitary Rey nervous.Knows that her near feral upbringing makes all this wealth and privilege intimidating.Inwardly, he can’t help but feel proud of her.Transcending the past is a hard thing to do.You never really get over the past.You just move on.

He keeps sneaking glances from across the room.Kylo feels very provoked by that dress and it’s maddening.Watching Rey is like foreplay all night long.He can’t look away because damn, his Empress looks good.

He’s not the only one who notices.Kylo can't miss the admiring glances sent her way by many. And the overtly lustful leers made by a few.It's that inappropriate dress.Rey is a sparkling white and pure angel from the front and back views and then an alluring, teasing temptress from the sides.No, Rey should not be wearing that sexy dress.It's just asking for this sort of reaction.Not that the dress excuses it--how dare those men ogle his Empress.Kylo makes a point of remembering their faces.Thankfully, Snoke isn’t one of Rey’s admirers.His Master only has eyes for his own wife tonight.

Every time Rey takes a step, Kylo sees the flash of thigh peeking through her slit skirt and he wonders what's underneath.It's . . . distracting.

As the night wears on and the looks from others continue, Emperor Ren is feeling more and more possessive.This is his wife, the mother of his children, his Empress.Living apart doesn’t change any of that.They are Sith married so Rey is his forever. Kylo tosses back another drink and decides that Rey has no business flaunting herself before other men like this.He’s going to tell her that, too.

So when Rey leaves the main party, Kylo follows her.She's far away from the crowd now, down a hallway with a visible security presence.This must be her living quarters, he surmises.Milo had told him that there were a few bedrooms in the Coruscant apartment, but that historically it had been used for entertaining. 

Rey whirls as he strides in the bedroom after her.She's standing by a mirror on the wall and she has a lipstick in her hand.Rey must be here for a touchup.But one look at her glossy rose lips is all it takes for Kylo to decide what to do next. He’s always been impulsive where Rey is concerned.In a heartbeat, he has her up against the wall next to the mirror and his lips find hers.It’s a hard, insistent kiss. Full of pent up desire and worry and many things left unsaid.

"Kylo," she gasps out as she breaks free."What are you--"

He doesn't let her finish, for his mouth covers hers again for another demanding kiss.Rey tastes like champagne and it’s intoxicating.His hands are on her torso now, slipping into the open sides to her dress.This is what he has wanted to do since he first laid eyes on Rey tonight.To caress all the skin she flashes before him, silently daring him to look but not touch.Well, tonight he will damn well touch.He slips his thumbs inside the dress to find her nipples, already pebbled hard.Yes, his Empress might play it cool but her body betrays just how hot she is for him.And that knowledge is a rush of satisfaction.

And now she's kissing him back, he's noticed. 

"Rey," Kylo pants out between kisses."Oh, I've missed you." So much for playing it smooth.The truth tumbles out in his relief that she has not rejected him.For the feel of her hands around his neck and in his hair is heaven.And her lips are as greedy as his own.

He grinds into her, wanting her to feel his growing hardness. To know how much he wants her. Because it has been so long.And through her thickly encrusted dress and his heavy uniform it's not enough friction, so he presses his hips closer to hers.Now his hands are moving lower, tugging her skirt up.He slips his fingers inside the side slits to her skirt to reach for her thighs.He wants to know if she's wearing it. Long ago Rey had promised she would wear it always.

"Kylo, don't--"Rey breaks the kiss and squirms under his wandering hands.But her arms are still wrapped around his neck.

Yes, it's there strapped to the inside of her uppermost thigh.The tiny but lethal five inch snub blaster with the double safety lock.Kylo has insisted that Rey wear a weapon at all times since the Resistance once had nabbed her.The war might be over, but his orders still stand.Knowing that she is still heeding to his wishes reassures him. And emboldens him.

He strokes the soft skin around the hidden weapon."Good girl," he approves and the back of his gloved hand brushes against the nest of damp, dark curls just up above. Gods, Rey is completely naked beneath this daring dress. Naked with a blaster holstered to her thigh.Damn, that's hot.He's Sith so just thinking about sex combined with the threat of violence turns him on.Fuck, now he is hard as a rock.

So, yes, this is happening.Now he wants more than a few stolen kisses up against a wall.Kylo’s leathered fingers start fondling her shamelessly under her skirt as his tongue plunges into her mouth.“I need this,” he gasps out.“We need this,” he tells her.And it’s true.Tonight he will not take no for an answer.

"No, Kylo, no," she moans into him.It comes out as a slur. 

"Yes, Rey.Let me love you," he persists.And powerful Emperor Sith that he is, Kylo can't resist begging."Come home, Rey," he coaxes between kisses."I need you.The boys need you.Love me and come home with me tonight."

"I can't."Rey half wails this.

And he doesn't know if she means she can't come home or that she can't sleep with him.In the absence of clarity, he's going to assume the former.He is Sith, so he is ruthless in all things, even seduction.No is not an option. Not when he’s this worked up, she’s his wife and he loves her.

And, oh, just look at her.Eyes closed, head back, mouth fallen open.She’s gasping out as she arches against him.Yeah, she wants this.

"Yes, you can,” he urges.Then pleads, “Come home."His hands are aggressive with fingers up inside her and teasing rapidly at her bud.They've done this enough times before that he knows exactly what Rey likes.And he's giving it to her in spades.It's gratifying to see her writhe against him.Yes, maybe his Empress hasn't missed him, but for damn sure she has missed this.

"Kylo, stop," she warns halfheartedly."Stop because--"

"Because what?" he whispers directly into her ear. He’s raining kisses down her exposed throat now.

"Because it's over, Kylo. We're through."She pants out her words and he is unconvinced. She’s just playing hard to get.

So he calls her bluff."Tell me again you want me to stop.Say it out loud," he growls, daring her. 

He takes back one hand now to focus on freeing himself.But his other hand keeps ravaging her slick body and his mouth is on hers.She's close.Very close, he knows.Like Hell she wants him to stop.And besides she’s not telling him to stop.

In her five-inch stiletto hooker heels Rey is tall.And that makes Rey the perfect height for this now.So with one quick movement, he reaches down to grab one of her legs under the knees.“Whaaa?”She's taken by surprise and gripping tightly about his shoulders to keep her balance as she teeters on one very high heel.And as he raises her leg and sweeps over her dress, she is open and fully exposed to him.Excellent.He thrusts in hard. 

"Oh!" Rey gasps and her eyes snap open to meet his.Lost in her haze of passion on the brink of finding her Light, she had not been expecting this. But now they are practically eye to eye and it’s perfect, he thinks.

"Oh, Rey!" he rasps as he withdraws to push in again deeper still.“I love you.”Has that giant Muun dick of his Master's ruined Rey for his?Is he still man enough for her?He has worried over this, so Kylo thrusts in hard. Rey is damn sure going to feel this.He might not be hung like a Muun, but Kylo has nothing to be ashamed of.

"I love you, Rey."He says this over and over as he buries himself fully in her enveloping warmth.“I love you.Come home to me.”And soon her legs are up and wrapped around his waist and he is holding her firmly.Pinning her to the wall, his hips slamming away at her body with a heady mix of lust and desperation.What began as a seduction has devolved into a wild, animal coupling.He could go on like this forever, Kylo thinks.For Rey weighs next to nothing these days and she is sweetly compliant in his arms.Damn, she feels so good.

She gasps out his name and it just eggs him on.He wants her passion, yes.And he wants her Light too.But most of all, he wants to feel close to his Rey.To feel loved by this woman who keeps pushing him away.She’s the only woman who has ever really loved him.

“Tell me you love me,” he demands of her.He doesn’t need an apology, he doesn’t need her forgiveness, he only needs her love.They can make a future together just based on mutual love.And in time, he hopes, the past will fall away.That’s how it has always been for him and for them.Because Kylo Ren doesn’t look back. And neither does Rey.Whether it’s their separate past or their shared experiences, very little about their history has been pretty.

“Tell me!Tell me!” he urges, his face now cheek to cheek with hers.But Rey doesn’t get the chance.For it's only a few moments more before Rey has lost herself to pleasure, her Lightside power blazing forth to blind his mind's eye.And, oh how he needs her Light.To heal the sneaking doubts about Rey in Snoke's arms, to soothe the jealousy that eats away at him from the betrayal, to calm the nagging fears that he has lost her forever and that he will live alone heartbroken like his grandfather once did.

But that's all gone now, for his beloved is back in his arms and he’s taking her home.They can do this, he encourages himself.They can work this out. He and Rey will cry together over their lost Sheev, they will rage together over the betrayal by Snoke, they will feel together and be together.And maybe heal together.Someway, somehow, he and Rey will get past this and everything will be alright.Because he loves her and she loves him.And in the end, that’s all that matters.

And with that euphoria in his heart culminating with the long denied baser pleasure in his loins, Kylo too finds his release.This is what he has needed for so long.The physical release and the emotional connection.His Rey is nestled in his arms now, her feet back on the ground as her body sags against him in the spent aftermath of their lust.He drops a kiss on her sweaty brow. Now that things are better between them, Kylo can risk being completely vulnerable.

"Rey, I know you will never approve of the choice I made, but maybe you will come to understand it.I was lost without you when you died," he confesses to her.It is raw and humbling for this Sith."Truly lost.And I have been lost without you since you left." He strokes her hair back from her brow.Her eyes are still closed.She looks exhausted.“I love you, Rey.I need you.And I want us to be a family again.” 

Rey looks up at him and there are tears in her eyes and her makeup is smeared.Yes, he needs to take her home now to Bast.Neither of them are in any shape to go back to this party."Grab whatever you need and I’ll call the shuttle and we can leave here now," he whispers as he steps back from her.He'll just step outside to give the order to a trooper.He beams a lopsided grin at her. "The boys are going to love waking up to find you."

His back is turned as he rights his clothes, strips off his soiled gloves and strides to the door.He's almost there when she freezes him with a word.

"No."

"What?"He half turns. Has he heard right?

Rey’s voice is low and serious."It's over, Kylo.This doesn't mean anything."

Her words wound him.More than any weapon ever could. 

"Over?" He is incredulous."What do you mean over??Rey, we just—just --" His voice trails off as her hard expression conveys her meaning better than her words ever could.Rey looks determined. 

"This doesn't mean anything," she repeats.And then Rey doubles down on her rejection with the cold summary, "Our marriage is over, Kylo.This was just sex."

Oh.He stares at her a moment.

Just sex.The words feel like a punch to the gut.

Just sex??That's what he has been telling himself about Rey and Snoke for weeks now.That it was just sex and there were no feelings involved.That it was some twisted transaction to exchange her power for his.That there had been no real desire by Snoke for his Rey, no true lust for her, only for the benefits of her power.It was a betrayal still, but somehow less of a betrayal because it could have been any woman, but it just so happened to be his Rey.

But to hear Rey say this now--about them--is soul crushing, ego killing and heartbreaking all at once.Like they are just a casual fling or some convenient friends with benefits arrangement.As if they are not husband and wife, Dark and Light, bound to each other forever together in the moonlight.As if they were not brought together by destiny to remake the Force and to be the next generation of Skywalkers.

This rejection cuts deep.His hopes are dashed. 

Kylo Ren is a Sith and always he defaults to anger as his reflexive emotion."Fuck!"His eyes flash yellow as he lashes out."You fucking bitch!"He automatically raises his hand and takes a step towards her, but thinks better of it.Much as he would dearly love to throttle the shit out of Rey right now, he will not lay a hand on her again.And though he could knock her out with the Force and drag her back to Bast, that's not the reunion he had in mind.

So he seethes in his bitter disappointment, vowing, "It will never be over!Not while I live, not while you live.This is forever, Rey!I am your Sith!"

It’s an endearment turned into a threat, but it makes no impression on Rey.“Just go, Kylo,” she tells him and it’s as if he were some junior lieutenant being dismissed and not the Emperor of the galaxy.

And now he does exit the room, stomping down the hallway with fists clenched.Heedless of the beige smear of makeup on his shoulder and the lipstick mark on his neck above his collar.His dark eyes are flashing and his long hair flying as rage oozes from his every pore.Fuck!Of all the nights not to have his helmet.Kylo needs his helmet right now to obscure his emotions from the hundreds of partygoers.Emperor Ren doesn't have a poker face because he has never needed one before. 

He feels his Master's eyes on him as he careens through the crowd that melts away at the Emperor's approach.For, yes, Snoke had sensed Rey's Light in the Force.The Supreme Leader's attaboy smirk from across the room says it all. 

And that just makes Kylo feel worse.If his command shuttle isn't ready to go in two minutes flat, he's going to kill someone.Party or no party.

As he is cooling his heels on the landing platform waiting for his shuttle ramp to lower, Snoke's wife appears.And, really, she's the last person Kylo wants to see. He doesn’t need Missus Snoke or Lady Leader or whatever the fuck she’s called giving him more advice.And over her shoulder coming up fast he spies Nestor Ren.

"I'll talk to her," the Muun beauty promises softly to Kylo in that annoyingly helpful way of hers.Shan Damask is too damn friendly for his taste.Doesn’t she understand how awkward this is?What the Hell his Master sees in this goody two shoes doormat of a woman, Kylo will never know.Well, besides the obvious."In the morning, I will talk to her," she offers again. 

"You do that!" Kylo spits out rudely, ignoring the assembled troopers and several guests who are onlookers. "You tell her that there are two babies at home who miss her.Babies who sleep with scraps cut from one of her dresses so that they can smell her because it comforts them.You tell her that they cry in the night for their mother who walked out on us!That stubborn fucking bitch!"

Then he turns and climbs the ramp to his shuttle in a swirl of black fabric and humiliation. 

So Kylo misses the exchange between the Leader’s wife and the First Knight.Both of them left standing in the Emperor’s wake, looking concerned.

“He needs to kill him,” Nestor Ren says flatly.

“Kill who?”

“Whoever his wife's lover is.Kylo won’t let us kill him.The Ren would be happy to track that guy down and kill him.”

“He can’t kill him,” Shan Damask says softly.

And the First Knight scoffs at this.“Kylo Ren can kill whoever he wants.He’s been doing it for years.And he needs to kill that guy and get it out of his system.It’s not like Kylo to be lenient like this.”

“He can’t kill him,” Snoke’s wife repeats.

“Yeah?Why not?”

“Because it’s Snoke.”


	18. Chapter 18

It’s the morning after.  Rey stands on the balcony of the Coruscant apartment with a cup of now cold caf in her hand.   Last night’s sexy white dress is laying in a crumpled heap where she left it outside the shower in her room.  Rey is wearing her First Order mechanic’s uniform now.  This Jakku Cinderella is back in her usual rags and her Prince Charming has long since stomped off an angry huff. 

 

The apartment is buzzing with droids and personnel cleaning up from last night’s festivities.  Milo is everywhere issuing instructions in that quiet way of his.  And somewhere, Rey knows, Snoke and Shan lurk.  They had stayed over last night in one of the extra bedrooms.

 

Rey wishes everyone would leave.

 

Shan Damask wanders onto the balcony a few minutes later.  She’s wearing a long, sweeping black satin nightgown and robe.  Looking every inch the unofficial Queen of Darkness that she is.  Shan too is clutching a cup of caf.  She leans over the railing beside Rey to stare out at the Coruscant skyline.  Saying nothing.

 

Which is good because Rey doesn't much feel like talking.

 

Finally, Shan speaks. “It's been a long time since I stood in high heels for five hours at a party.  My feet are out of practice for this sort of thing.  They still hurt.  How are yours?”

 

This seems like a safe topic.  So Rey answers, “They've been better.  I'm not used to heels.”

 

Shan keeps talking.  “You’d think that if people can invent a hyperdrive and the Death Star, someone could invent comfortable women’s shoes.  It’s hard to believe that I used to do this five nights a week, every week.   Of course, I wasn’t the zombie undead back then.  Maybe that makes a difference.”  Shan pauses to take a drink of caf.  Then she keeps making conversation.  “Snoke is off googling himself on the holonet.   It’s the first thing he does every morning.  He's done it for years.   He reads about ten newsfeeds first thing.  And at least as many tabloids.”  She slants Rey a knowing woman-to-woman look.  “Men love gossip just as much as women.  And they can be vain about their accomplishments.  Especially the Sith."

 

When Rey says nothing, Shan chatters on.  "Snoke wants to build a new Imperial palace over there."  She points somewhere in the direction of the museum Shan had once visited.

 

"Here?  Not in the Rim?"  This surprises Rey.  The First Order had been formed in the Unknown Regions and its base of support has long been the Outer Rim worlds.  Building a seat of power in the Core seems, well, old fashioned.  Like a throwback to the Old Republic. 

 

Shan nods.  "The Rim might be how Snoke rose to power, but this will be his seat of power.”  She shrugs.  “It's the Eternal City.  It's Coruscant."  As if that explains it all.

 

And maybe it does.  "Yeah,” Rey agrees softly.  “The bright center of the universe.”

 

"And the aim of all Sith," Shan concludes.  She turns to face Rey now.  "I’m going to be in Coruscant about once a week now.  Would you mind if I drop in on you?"  She smiles a bit sheepishly down at Rey.  “There’s not a lot of female company back home with Snoke.  And to a man they are terrified of me.”

 

Well, okay, thinks Rey.  It would be good to have a friend.  Maybe it’s the caf or Shan’s company.  But she’s thawing a bit.  "Yes, I would like that."

 

"I want to be a tourist here for a bit, Rey,” Shan confides.  “I have a lot to catch up on.  Just looking out from this balcony shows me how much things have changed.  I want to see what Coruscant looks like now."

 

Rey understands.  She too would like to see more of this amazing world.  "I need to see it for the first time."

 

"It’s a plan then.”  They exchange smiles.  “Where is Lord Ren today?”  Shan asks nonchalantly.  “Off to the Rim again?"

 

Rey has no idea where Kylo is.  They are so distant now that she only knows his whereabouts from the holonet reports.   

 

"He left here in a hurry last night."   Shan says this softly and Rey has no doubt that Snoke’s wife knows far more than she’s letting on. 

 

But Rey does not want to talk about this.  Last night had been a mistake. A huge mistake.  Rey should never have let things get that far. She should have resisted. Force-pushed Kylo across the room or something like that to get his full attention.  But she hadn't.

 

Because she had been weak for him.

 

It had felt so good to be back in Kylo’s arms again.  To close her eyes and to pretend that she and Kylo were happy and that Sheev was asleep in the next room.  To hear Kylo tell her that he loved her and to remember how it had felt to truly believe it.  To lose herself to passion as her mind dissolved into the safety and comfort of the Light. 

 

Yes, she has really screwed up this time.

 

Because as soon as it was over, Kylo had reminded her of what he had done.  And then Rey couldn't lie to herself any longer.  Reality had come crashing back and with it all the anger and despair over Sheev.  And Kylo--clueless as ever about the situation and blinded by his own selfish justifications--had looked so terribly hurt.  And that had never been her goal. 

 

Maybe it ought to feel good to hurt Kylo, but it doesn't.  Even when she had been shooting at him last week, Rey hadn't really intended to hurt him. She knew he could stop those blaster bolts.  She also knew that he liked the challenge. 

 

Oh, why did it have to go so wrong?  Yeah, Kylo's not perfect and neither is she.  But through the years, she has put up with all sorts of his shit.  Both from him and from his enemies.  Including an awful crime against herself.  The Sith are not big on empathy and so it had taken Kylo way too long to comprehend what he had done to her in the Starkiller interrogation cell.  But ultimately he had understood.  And truly regretted it. 

 

If they could get past the Starkiller, Rey had been certain that they could get past anything together.  And she had clung to that belief, knowing she would need it in the future.  Because Rey's eyes have long been open to her Sith.  She’s knows he’s a monster.  And she has long known--absolutely known--that Kylo would do more things to disappoint her, to anger her, maybe even to hurt her.  But never in her wildest dreams would she have expected that he would murder their son.  Harm to her is bad enough, but harm to their children is unacceptable.

 

"Rey, is everything ok?"

 

She blinks.  Lost in thought, Rey has forgotten that Shan is even here. She blushes now, embarrassed.   Then frowns.  "I can't forgive him," she half-whispers.  "What Kylo did is unforgivable."   Rey of Jakku is no accepting Shan Damask who stands by her man through it all.

 

"Rey--"

 

"Do not ask me to forgive him!  I cannot!  I will not!"  Rey whirls and flees to her room.

 

* * *

 

 

Kylo is brooding.  It's getting late, he's on his second glass of Corellian brandy and his datapad is almost out of charge, but still he sits swiping through the publicity photos from last week's Coruscant reception.  Rey is in several of the candid party photos looking gorgeous, if half naked.  Somehow, the photographer had managed only to snap pictures of Rey in profile showing the maximum amount of skin.  The pictures are pretty hot and he’s enjoying looking at them.  But he would rather the rest of the galaxy not get to see this much of Rey.

 

Thankfully, the newsfeeds had mostly published the picture of Snoke and his wife standing next to Rey and him.  Rey is smiling broadly in the picture but he knows her well enough to tell that the smile is forced and fake.   Rey had been trying her hardest that night in her role as Empress.  But she hadn't actually been enjoying herself.  The evening ought to have been a shared moment of triumph for he and Rey.  A victory lap for surviving the war, winning the galaxy and beginning a new era.  But the underlying conflicts with Snoke and with Rey had overshadowed all of that for him.  And then the evening had ended so badly. 

 

Now things are worse than ever between he and Rey.

 

Kylo sighs and tosses back the rest of his drink.  He’s in no hurry to retire alone to his empty bed, so he walks to the balcony.  This has become his custom most nights here alone at Bast.  Kylo stands for long moments overlooking the garden terrace where his firstborn son is anonymously buried.  Second guessing himself.  He’s not as sure of his decision as he has portrayed to Rey.  If he had to do it again, would he choose Rey knowing what would happen?  Probably not.  But what’s done is done and cannot be undone.   Fate has always laughed at the love of the Skywalkers.  Kylo sees now that he didn’t get to choose his wife over his son.  For in the end, he lost them both. 

 

It’s discouraging.  And, oh so predictable.  His grandfather had once tried to save his wife and ended up losing her and his children in the process.  And then Vader had spent the rest of his life alone.  Well, Kylo thinks, if there is a silver lining to his decision, it’s that he still has Hego and Bane.  At least there’s that.

 

He startles suddenly, distracted from his reverie by the sound of ion engines.  He looks up to see the landing lights of a TIE Interceptor swooping down.  He has an unexpected late visitor.  It's the First Knight Nestor Ren.  Kylo meets him on the landing pad.

 

“You awake?”  Nestor calls as he leaps down from the ship.  He stretches and rubs at his back.  “Not as young as I used to be,” the First Knight grumbles.  “I hate these long haul flights in a TIE.”

 

This has bad news written all over it, Kylo thinks.   He is automatically suspicious.   “Who's dead?” he demands.   

 

This question makes Nestor look grim.  “No one, Kylo.  Not yet.”

 

The Emperor raises an eyebrow at this.  Then ushers in his friend.   “Come.”

 

Fifteen minutes and another drink later, the preliminaries are out of the way and Nestor Ren gets to the point. "I'll help you kill him, Kylo.  He's vulnerable. Everyone is.  Even the Leader.  You can consolidate your power with a coup and get revenge for Rey all at once.”  Nestor takes a long drink and then looks him in the eye.  “He should die for Rey."

 

Kylo says nothing for a minute.  He just runs a hand through his hair and sighs.  “Does everyone know?”  Gods, he hopes the whole First Order doesn’t know.  That would be so humiliating.

 

“No.”

 

“How'd you find out?”

 

“Snoke's old lady let it slip the other night.  After you left the party.”

 

Of course it was that meddling Shan Damask.  Snoke’s wife likes to meddle as much as Snoke does.  Only she’s probably good intentioned.  Not that it matters, Kylo thinks.  It’s still meddling.   And it’s fucking annoying.   

 

“Killing him is treason,” Kylo reminds Nestor with a sharp look.

 

But the First Knight shrugs off this warning.  “Only if you don’t succeed.  Who’s going to fault you for killing him once he’s dead?  And if a few key people here and there know the reason why, they will understand.  They would expect nothing less.  You’re not really the forgiving type, Kylo.”

 

No, he’s not.  And that’s what makes this whole situation so frustrating.  Kylo sighs again.  “Killing him isn’t an option.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I need him to hold this Empire together.”

 

“Are you sure?  You managed to win the Empire just fine with little help from him. And the military will be behind you in this.  You know the troops will always have your back.  They respect you, Kylo.”

 

Yes, he knows this.  But still.  “There are things I want to learn from him.”  Things he needs to learn from Snoke.  More and more, Kylo sees how much he has to learn.  How he’s not yet ready to rule on his own.  And he would rule on his own, without the support of his Empress and her comforting Light.

 

Nestor Ren shrugs.  “So you can learn on the job like everyone else.”  He thinks for a moment and then voices the thought Kylo himself has had many times.  “It’s too bad Hux isn’t around to help you.   We could sure use Hux these days.”

 

And now Kylo isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince—Nestor Ren or himself.  “Snoke is my great-grandfather,” he reveals quietly.  “He’s what’s left of my family.”  The Skywalker Sith patriarch and the head of the clan Kylo so reveres. 

 

“What?”  Nestor looks dubious and points out the obvious.  “He’s a Muun.”

 

Kylo doesn’t bother to explain.  He gets right to the crux of the issue in this cost benefit analysis.  “Plus killing Snoke won’t give me Rey back.  It might push her farther away.”   And why should he risk killing his Master for a woman who doesn’t want him?  He’s a Sith, so yes revenge has special satisfaction.  But killing Snoke is an awful risk to take just for revenge. 

 

Nestor Ren misunderstands.  “Oh, fuck.  Does Rey love him?”  His friend looks aghast at this thought.  “Ah, geez, Kylo.  That’s rough.  Yeah, she might hate you if you kill him then.”  The First Knight grimaces.  “Well, think about, Kylo.  It will be easier now that he is planning to build that palace in Coruscant.   When he is out of his stronghold, he isn’t as well protected.  There will be opportunities.  There always are.  We can make it look like terrorism from the remnants of the Resistance.  We would make it completely untraceable back to you, of course.”

 

It’s tempting, but Kylo shakes his head.  “He will be expecting this. He knows that I’m angry.”  And you don’t kill a Sith Master with a bomb like a terrorist, Kylo thinks to himself.  That’s a tactic Leia Organa might have used.  She was always good for blowing things up.  But this is a personal conflict, and that’s part of the reason Kylo knows he can’t pull it off.  Because while Kylo would much prefer to look old Darth Plagueis in the eye when he kills him, he knows that he’s a goner in a one-on-one confrontation with Snoke.   

 

Nestor Ren looks puzzled now.  “So you're just going to let him get away with seducing your wife?” 

 

Kylo doesn’t answer.  Because it’s worse than Nestor knows.   At first, Snoke had basically raped Rey by tricking her.  Nestor seems to think this was all consensual.   If he knew the truth, he would think Kylo was even less of a man for tolerating it. 

 

“Then you should kill his wife,” Nestor goads him.  “Eye for an eye, you know.”

 

There are many things wrong with that strategy, but Kylo responds with the most persuasive reason.  “Snoke would only bring her back and kill one of my kids to do it.”  Kylo takes another drink and frowns.  “He's got me boxed in.  Not only am I not strong enough in the Force to kill him, but it’s to my advantage not to kill him.  This is how he manipulates people.  And he's a master at it.” 

 

Something in his tone gets through to Nestor Ren and the First Knight knows to drop the subject.  “Okay, Kylo.  But if you change your mind . . . when you’re ready . . . I’m with you in this.”

 

Kylo nods in appreciation.  He looks over at his trusted lieutenant and reveals, “The time will come one day, Nestor.  Snoke plays the long game.  And so will I.” 

 

The problem is that the long game is only a year old right now and sleeping down the hall.  Revenge for Rey will be a very long game indeed.  But if Kenobi could wait all those years for his uncle to grow up to avenge the Jedi, then Kylo can wait for his boys too.

 

Kylo changes the topic now.  “How long have you been married?”

 

Nestor thinks a moment.   “Fifteen years next quarter.  Why?”

 

“How does a guy who fucks around as much as you stay married?”

 

“Awwww . . . Cesi doesn't know about any of that.  What she doesn't know won’t hurt her.  She wouldn’t want to know.  It’s better this way.”

 

That's what Kylo had once thought in a completely different context.  But in his family, secrets always seem to come out in the end.  

 

The young Emperor slants a skeptical glance over at his friend.  “You've fucked almost all the girls in the Coruscant clubs.  Twice.” 

 

“Yeah, I have.”  Nestor grins.  “But Cesi doesn't know that.  And those girls don't matter.  They're just a good time for the night.  It's different with Cesi. She's my wife. The mother of my girls.  I love her.”  He shrugs.  “Those other girls are just sex.”

 

Just sex.  That doesn't make Kylo feel any better.

 

After another drink and some more talk, Nestor Ren is back in his TIE.  And Kylo is brooding again alone.  His datapad is really almost out of charge now, but there’s still power for one last message.  It’s to Nestor Ren.

 

‘We would need a good plan.  A really good plan.  Start thinking.’


	19. Chapter 19

Something about a person's era clings to them.  There is some indelible mark of the attitudes and ideals of their heyday that stays with someone long after time has marched on.   And so no matter how fresh and modern are Shan Damask's clothes, in Rey's mind Snoke's wife always has the subtle stamp of bittersweet glamour from the bygone days of the Late Republic.  Days before incessant war and galaxy-wide poverty and waves of mass starvation in the Rim.  Days when citizens trusted their governments and their institutions and admired their leaders.  Maybe it's the way Shan Damask sashays into a room with a swish of fabric and a heady swirl of perfume.  Or maybe it’s how her casual demeanor mixes effortlessly with her innate social confidence.  But Snoke’s wife gives off the impression of a woman who has never known hardship and never known defeat.  A stubborn optimism clings to her, an infectious can-do attitude to life.  And Rey, in her aimless depression, latches on.

 

Shan Damask drops by once a week without fail.  Each time she drags Rey out into the Coruscant good life.  First to a conspicuous and much photographed luncheon tete-a-tete surrounded by security.  And then to an outing in the city.  Often it's to the Coruscant high street for shopping--Shan never seems to get enough clothes--but other times it's for sightseeing, or to an art museum or to a matinée performance at the opera or the ballet. 

 

Whenever practicable, Shan wants to walk around.  She’s not a woman who wants to be hidden in an enclosed speeder and whisked in and out of buildings.  No, Shan Damask wants to stride down the crowded Coruscant sidewalks like a normal pedestrian.  If a normal pedestrian were surrounded by a squad of stormtroopers, that is.   Once or twice, security attempts to steer Madame Leader to a less conspicuous location or to discourage her desire to mingle in public.  But Shan just pats her handbag and tells security not to worry.  She can take care of herself.  And eventually they defer.  This is a woman who is hard to say no to. 

 

An amused Rey simply trails in her wake, enjoying the freedom and along for the ride.  After years mostly shut up at Bast Castle, Rey is loving her forays out into the public. 

 

So the troopers grumble and fume as Shan buys ice cream from a street vendor.  They grow impatient when she agrees to pose for a picture with just about anyone who asks.   And they nearly panic when she and Rey impulsively hop aboard one of the Coruscant free public transports.  She’s not a risk taker, Shan assures Rey, but she doesn’t want to live hidden away like Snoke did for years.  She’s got a second chance at life now and she wants to make the most of it.   To have fun and see what’s new.   

 

“So many people have suffered so that I might live,” she tells Rey.  “I feel I owe it to them to make the most of life.”  Rey can’t help but feel solemn at this wisdom.  And that prompts Shan to confess, “I feel partly responsible for your unhappiness, Rey.”  And that’s the closest they come to talking about Rey’s situation.  After their stilted conversation on the balcony, Madame Snoke seems content to let it be.  Her strategy seems to be to make Rey happy.  And one day a week, it works.  

 

Shan surprises Rey with her willingness to talk about the Jedi.  She tells Rey all about her training years, about her no nonsense Jedi Master Jocasta Nu, and about her years of schooling to prepare for her assignment to the Jedi Archives.  Then about her difficulty passingly the Trials and her years spent working as a researcher at the backwater Jedi temple on Naboo.  Shan sounds happy when she speaks of the past, Rey realizes.  As if she had liked being a Jedi.  And it's so different from Kylo's perspective that Rey is confused.

 

"Did the Jedi steal you?"  Rey knows she sounds a little lurid, but she's curious.   Kylo had told her all about how the Jedi used to steal children away from their parents to be raised by the ancient cult. "Did you ever find your parents?  Your real family?"

 

"I see the Sith have been telling you about the Jedi."  Shan looks amused by these questions.   "It wasn't as bad as that, Rey.  And families don't always look the way you expect.  It's not always a married mom and dad with kids.   And that doesn't make a family any less important or real.  The Jedi were my family in every way that mattered."  She looks a little wistful now.  "That's why it was so hard to be cast out."

 

Poor Shan, Rey thinks.  Even after all these years she's still a bit indoctrinated. Shan probably doesn't realize how many lies of the Jedi she has internalized.  But that is bound to happen when you only hear one viewpoint. "What did you do after that?"

 

"I fled to Snoke.  And he became my family.  And then Caar came along, of course."

 

There's a pattern here, Rey thinks.  "Kylo fled to Snoke after his family threw him out.  They wanted him to become a Jedi."

 

Shan raises an eyebrow at this. "I'm still a bit surprised that Snoke agreed to take on a Jedi padawan as an apprentice.   He always said a Jedi wasn't worth investing the time and effort in.  That there was too much risk they would turn back to the Light."  She considers, then decides, "But I suppose that there's not much risk of Kylo Ren seeking redemption."

 

No, there isn't.   Rey nods her agreement.   "Kylo is a Sith through and through."   She looks over to Shan. "Snoke calls us all a family now. I guess we are the Sith version of your Jedi family."  And really, Rey thinks to herself, that's kind of creepy given all that has transpired.

 

"Yes, that's his mother's influence showing," Shan reveals.   "Snoke adored his mother.  I think that's why he has always had a fondness for women.  I'm the latest in a long string of wives, Rey."

 

Yes, she's the fifth wife, Rey remembers. 

 

"Snoke," Shan shakes her head and laughs a little.  "Did you know that Snoke was his mother's pet name for him?  He's an evil dark Sith Master who goes by his childhood nickname."  No, Rey hadn't known this.  But it's just one of the many strange ironies of the Sith. 

 

"He's lucky his nickname wasn't worse," Shan giggles.  "He might have been Supreme Leader Stinky or something even more silly."   Snoke’s wife is trying to make her smile, Rey sees.  And it works. 

 

Rey comes to look forward to her weekly day on the town with Shan.  Otherwise, Rey’s life is very routine.  Three times a week she visits the twins at Bast.  And the other three days Rey is back holed up in the Coruscant apartment.  Alone all day, bored and brooding.

 

Madame Snoke, on the other hand, has been busy.  She has managed to get herself appointed to the Board of Trustees of her secret alma mater on Coruscant.  And with her fellow academics, she is putting together a brain trust on cultural and political issues.  Her goal is to host a series of intellectual salon evenings at the Coruscant apartment.  Shan has a wide range of topics in mind, and a few of them are blatantly controversial. 

 

When Rey raises an eyebrow at this, Shan just shrugs and smiles.  Palpatine's Empire was very oppressive in all matters.  The Leader and the new Emperor do not want to emulate that model.  This time around, the Sith will be benevolent dictators, at least at the beginning.  They will lead by example by permitting reasoned, polite dissent.  And hopefully that will provide a model for the expression of differing views.  That the opposition will speak with words and not with violence.  And if not, then at least the inevitable brutal crackdown will have a good predicate.     

 

The more Rey gets to know Shan, the more she realizes just how bookish and high-minded the former professor truly is.   Shan is a lover of learning, like her Sith Master husband.   She speaks nonstop of history and politics with an encyclopedic knowledge.  There are other vestiges of her Jedi background lurking here and there.  For Madame Snoke is very community minded.   The Leader's wife begins showing up at ribbon cutting ceremonies across the Outer Rim for First Order schools and health clinics.  

 

Ribbon cutting is dangerous work, as it turns out, for there are still pockets of unrest in the galaxy.  And those worlds are precisely the locations the First Order targets for the most immediate development and aid.  Hoping to win over hearts and minds and to avoid the need for a military crackdown.  The Leader and the Emperor want to avoid Palpatine's mistake.  This time around, the Sith will not foster a rebellion.  At least for now, tolerance wins the day.

 

So one day as Madame Snoke smiles, shakes hands and kisses babies outside a new children's hospital, someone takes a shot at her.  Cameras are on the Leader's wife and they catch the moment in real time.  Shan has a Rodian toddler hoisted in her left arm as she turns to face the threat with her right arm upraised.  It's a close thing but she freezes the blasterbolt about a meter from her outstretched hand in a move worthy of the great Kylo Ren.  And now the secret is out that the Leader's lady too has that magical Force.

 

And then more secrets are revealed.  For quickly Madame Snoke sets down the child and reaches into her purse to produce a weapon before the stunned crowd.  Even her own security detail looks shocked at the glowing blue laser sword that ignites in her hand.  So that's what is in the handbag that Madame Snoke habitually totes around.  Clearly, this woman is more than she seems. 

 

But the First Order has no comment other than to condemn the attack and to express relief that no one had been injured.  Some foolish reporter asks at a press conference if the Leader’s wife is a Jedi and the room erupts in laughter.  Still, the reporter persists, holding up a snapped photograph of Madame Snoke holding her blue blade steady as she waits for the next shot to parry.  It’s the classic Jedi ready position from long, long ago.  There are portraits of Jedi Masters in art museums in this pose, the reporter argues.   The First Order spokesman scoffs at this.  The Jedi are extinct.  Their fire has gone out of the universe.   Luke Skywalker was all that was left of their religion.  And Madame Snoke is absolutely not a Jedi.  Again, the room erupts in laughter at this foolishness.

 

The sniper shot to Shan Damask is typical of the unrest that exists these days.  For while there is no formal Resistance movement any longer, there are bands of dissidents here and there.  Mostly, their efforts are isolated and ineffective, like with the Leader’s wife.  And even when their attacks are successful, they usually result in killing innocent bystanders rather than their intended target.  This, in turn, only helps to foster popular support for the First Order.  It’s a win-win, in a way only a Sith could understand.  Since there is no real threat posed and there is a strategic benefit to tolerating these cells, the First Order refrains from a large scale crackdown.   And, of course, it trumpets its newfound tolerance and patience near and far.

 

Until, that is, one day the terrorists get lucky. 

 

When news of the terror attack against the First Order’s premier military academy blazes across the holonet one morning, Rey knows better than to trust any of the reported details.  Especially the ones about likely motives and suspects in custody.    None of that matters to Rey.  Her attention focuses on two of the rumored victims.   Unconfirmed reports say that they were Knights of Ren, Kylo’s longtime comrades in arms, who had been guest lecturing at the academy that day. 

 

The stubborn remnants of the Resistance have succeeded in claiming more lives today.  And, coincidence or not, two of those lives are important to Emperor Ren himself. 

 

Retribution comes swift and already reprisals have been launched.  And so-called co-conspirators are paraded before the cameras looking bloodied and worse for wear.  One of them is a fuel depot clerk who claims merely to have sold the terrorists fuel with no knowledge of their plans.  No matter.  Examples must be made.  For anyone who comes into contact with the enemy becomes the enemy.  If you’re not with me, then you’re my enemy.  Even if it’s an accident of fate.  Because the Emperor is a Sith and he deals in absolutes when it comes to punishment.

 

The bloody response is widely lauded even in the free press as appropriate and measured.  This has been a long time in coming, the talking heads all agree.  Maybe it was even overdue.  Emperor Ren is praised as a leader willing to make the hard choices for the greater good.  He’s the Sith who will make the galaxy great again.  And since the public at large has little appetite for more war, excesses in the name of law and order are welcomed.  In this political environment, few have the courage to speak their dissent.   

 

Watching it unfold from safety far away, Rey thinks that this is how civil rights die--to thunderous applause.

 

But she can’t change any of that.  Nor will she try.  Rey is not Kylo Ren’s conscience, but for years now she has been his Light.  And today she suspects that her Sith is hurting and that he needs her.  It has been almost three months since the party on Coruscant and they have not laid eyes on one another since.  Rey is feeling a bit guilty for that whole encounter.   And guilty too for staying away. 

 

For the Dark Side takes its toll and Rey alone has the Light that is the comfort Kylo needs.  And the darker his deeds, the stronger his call to her Light.  Nothing stokes his desire for her like violence and death.   And if one of the Ren who was killed is Nestor . . . well, then Kylo needs her.   Badly.  So Rey thinks for a minute.  Then pulls out her datapad and starts typing. 

 

_Kylo, come to me.  I will be your Light._

No, that sounds like a melodramatic booty call.  He’s going to get the wrong idea.  She’s offering this.  Not asking for it.  Rey tries again.

_Come to me.  I can help._

Better, but still a bit over the top.  Very Kylo, actually.  And does she sound desperate?  Rey frowns at it another minute and then tries again. 

_If you want, you can come to me.  I will help_.

 

That’s the best she can do.  She’s probably overthinking this anyway.  So with a final fortifying breath, Rey sends it to Kylo’s datapad.  Of course, her husband will see it.  The Emperor always has his nose in his datapad.

 

Day melts into night on Coruscant and Kylo has not answered her nor shown up.  Which feels strangely like a rejection.  So a grumpy Rey yanks on her nightgown and crawls into bed.

 

She is vaguely aware hours later when the bedroom door opens and her Sith stomps in and sits down heavily on the bed to take off his boots.  Thud.  Thud.  One boot after another hits the ground and Rey just rolls over and goes back into a deep sleep, secure in her fanciful dreams.  She doesn’t see the bare chested, tired man with bloodshot eyes who stares over at her sleeping form for long minutes.  Then he slips under the covers and he too is asleep.  As close as he can get to her without touching. 

 

In the morning when Rey wakes, a big hairy pale arm is draped over her and her body is nestled up against his.  For moments as she comes completely awake, Rey thinks maybe she is still dreaming.  And she is back at Bast with Kylo and they are happy.  

 

He’ll hop in the shower first while she runs to check on the twins and returns with his steaming hot cup of caf.  He’ll dress while it’s Rey’s turn in the shower and his com will already be buzzing.   When Rey is showered and wrapped in a towel the grooming droid will start her toilette.  And Kylo will check messages on his datapad while he chats with her about everything and nothing.   In half an hour she is dressed, coiffed and painted as Lady Ren and together they’ll go down to the nursery to collect Bane and Hego.  Then it will be another messy breakfast of tossed cheerios and mashed bananas with the twins and Milo.   

 

There are comforting rhythms to family life and simple pleasures to be enjoyed in routines.  But none of that exists here on Coruscant.  So there is no caf to fetch, there are no babies to check on, and there is no family life at all.  But this morning there is Kylo.  And as she rolls over to face him, Rey gives him a genuine smile before she can think to stop herself.  And he stares at her long seconds before his lips descend.  He has been waiting for her to wake.  It’s morning and he is hard and ready to go.

 

This isn’t Rey the temptress Empress wearing nothing but a gown and a blaster as she teeters for balance in too-tall heels.  This is Rey the depressed and adrift loner who hasn’t brushed her teeth and needs to wash her hair.  But this is real.  He needs her.  Maybe she needs him too.  Or perhaps she needs him to need her.  But whatever.  For a few stolen minutes in each other’s arms this morning, all is forgiven and all is forgotten. 

 

And then he leaves.

 

Rey doesn’t issue a second invitation.  But Kylo just presumes his welcome for a next time.  Give a Sith a meter and they’ll take a lightyear, after all.  And so every ten days or so, the Emperor arrives very late to park his shuttle full of troopers and flunkies on the landing pad.  Then he ventures in to spend the night with his estranged wife. 

 

In the morning when he leaves, it’s the same old argument each time.

 

“Come home, Rey," Kylo urges her.  "I need you.  The boys need you.  Come home with me now."

 

And she shakes her head and responds, “It's over, Kylo.”

 

“Stop being so stubborn.  How are nights like this any different from you living at Bast?  Come home, Rey.”

 

“It’s over.  Please don’t ask me again.”

 

“So it’s just sex,” he sneers bitterly.  The hurt shining back at her from his dark eyes.

 

Well, not entirely.  She’s trying to help him, too.  But crass and cold as it is, Rey nods.   “Yeah.”

 

Then just about when she has let go of her anger over the situation and made peace with their future apart, Kylo will show up again and the sex and the argument repeat themselves.   She keeps hurting him.  He keeps coming back again. 

 

More and more, Rey feels like the bad guy in all of this and not the victim.  For once Rey had done anything and everything to keep her family together.  Even resisted torture and screamed like a madwoman at Leia Organa.  All for the dream of a happy future with Kylo Ren. But now that dream feels lost and Rey feels lost too.  For she’s the one resisting Kylo’s pleas to come home.  She’s the one who is keeping them physically apart.  She’s the obstacle to the solution and the resistance to a reconciliation. 

 

But you don't survive on Jakku by giving second chances.  Plus, the abandoned Rey has always had trust issues.   And that was long before her husband lied to her and killed their son.  And before his esteemed Sith Master maneuvered her into bed. 

 

Rey is relieved to learn that the fallen at the academy attack do not include Nestor Ren.  She dutifully appears by her Emperor's side at the memorial ceremony for those killed.  And if the young Empress looks a bit sad and subdued, then it is fitting and no one is the wiser. 


	20. Chapter 20

“I don’t like it.Keep thinking.”

Kylo says this soto voce to Nestor Ren as together the men stand on the threshold of the party entrance.The Emperor’s command shuttle had been delayed for refueling and they are late arriving.The evening is already in full swing.

On its face, tonight will celebrate the welcome return of an Imperial Senate and the upcoming peaceful democratic elections galaxy-wide to choose the new Senators.Candidates from all of the major systems are present tonight.The First Order has its preferred winners, of course.Some are overtly endorsed and some are covertly supported, depending on the local politics.But there’s no such thing as free and fair elections in his Empire, and everyone in this room knows it.Still, the First Order is keeping up the charade for the populace at large.After so many years destabilizing governments in a systematic march across the galaxy from Rim to Core, the post-war First Order is now propping up regimes and installing Vichy-style puppet leaders.These elections are just more of the same, only Kylo will call it democracy.

No one save a few of the more intellectual press pundits has recognized that the new Senate has very limited constitutional authority.This legislature is all for show.

“Alright, Kylo.I’m on it.”At his side, the First Knight nods his understanding. “We’ll settle on something good eventually.There’s Cesi,” Nestor bows his leave of the Emperor and crosses the room to greet his wife.Now Kylo stands alone.

He and Nestor have planned raids and battle strategies together for almost two decades now, but killing Snoke has them both stumped.Plan A was too risky, Plan B left too many witnesses, Plan C was unwieldy, and Plan D left too many opportunities for error.He and Nestor are men experienced in war, so they know that things will go awry.They always do.But the consequences and the contingencies must be manageable.And so far, they are not.So the men are back to the drawing board.Maybe the fifth time will be the charm.

This is why the proper way to kill a Sith lord is man to man, Kylo thinks.There’s no planning.You simply show up and confront him for the kill.Then you smite his head from his neck with your sword like Vader did to Tyranus.It’s clean,honorable and decisive.Anything less is risky.Even tossing him down the Death Star reactor shaft.Because you never know when you will end up with another Lazarus Sith like Maul who, dumb as he was, turned out to be very difficult to kill.The last thing Kylo needs now is Darth Plagueis running around on spider legs.And, if there ever was a Lazarus Sith, it’s Plagueis.Yes, Kylo knows that he needs an excellent plan.And he’s willing to wait to get one.He will have only one chance at this.He can’t fuck it up.So he is not in a rush.

Kylo’s eyes scan the room for Rey.Is she standing next to who he thinks that is?Yes, she is.He frowns.Rey is speaking with the Senate candidate from Chandrila. And not the First Order backed candidate, he sees.This is the opposition candidate whose name he forgets.She's a human woman of late middle years and soft spoken, righteous dignity.Very much in the vein of her predecessor in spirit Mon Mothma.Chandrila has long been a pain in the ass world, Kylo thinks.This candidate is the latest in a long line of ballsy political matriarchs that remind him of his mother.

Thinking of Leia Organa just now makes Kylo glad that the First Order had leveled Chandrila’s four largest cities during the war.But it makes this moment awkward because the Emperor doesn't want to stride up to greet his wife and be forced to converse with a dissident in public.This woman is one of his more vocal critics.So Kylo lets Rey be his envoy and he hangs back to watch from across the room. 

“Yes, let her be.This is good for us.”The voice is his Master stepping up beside him.Wily old Snoke loves a party, and he hands Kylo a drink like he’s the congenial host at his own home.“Shan made sure to get them photographed together.This will play well in the press.A moment of social accord between the Empress who was tortured by the Resistance and a Resistance-loving dissident from a conquered world.”He favors Kylo a sly grin.“Peace time makes strange bedfellows, does it not?”

“Peace is a lie,” Kylo smirks.

“Indeed,” agrees the Sith at his side.Snoke smiles that broad, slow grin of his again as he clinks his glass with Kylo’s, toasting to the ancient Sith maxim.

Snoke is right about the optics with Rey.The man understands symbolism like a born politician, Kylo thinks.And Snoke never deploys it with a heavy hand, instead always making it appear accidental.And, really, this deftness comes as no surprise.As a Sith Master, manipulation is Snoke’s calling.

Kylo wonders for how long his Master has plotted to use Rey as a political prop.Had Snoke realized years ago that an Empress from Jakku would resonate so strongly with the downtrodden Rim populace?Was that part of why his Master had thrown them together?It wouldn’t surprise him.From the moment Darth Plagueis had known of Rey’s existence, he had been very interested in her.Only in hindsight has Kylo fully understood why.

“She is an excellent Empress for us,” Snoke compliments Rey and Kylo can’t help but bristle at this.He doesn’t like his Master showing his Rey any attention.“In time, your wife will become as smooth and adept as my Shan is in these settings.You shall see.”

Kylo is seeing.His eyes caress Rey from across the room, taking in the long sleeved, fishtail cut deep green gown.It’s shiny and sleek, like almost all of the evening gowns Rey wears these days.This one is cut to a low deep and daring neckline.On another woman, it would be gaudy.But on his elegantly slim Rey with her hair slicked back so severely, it is chic and almost restrained.

Watching her now, Kylo thinks that he and Rey did it all backwards from the conventional courtship. First he knew Rey as a mother, then as a wife--first for show and then for real--and now they are more like lovers.Arm’s length, emotionally uninvolved lovers, that is.When first he had begun to spend nights with Rey on Coruscant, Kylo had congratulated himself on his progress.But now he’s not so sure it isn’t a regression of sorts.All the intimacy of before is gone, even if the sex is back.

For Rey is detached and cool except when she is in his arms. Yes, looking at her now, he hopes that she will be in his arms tonight.All her skin showing from that daring neckline is just begging for his kiss.But Rey gets to decide now.And that's the point of living apart, Kylo has come to understand.It's all about Rey having control and setting boundaries and limitations.She wants this bad enough to leave behind the twins for this.So Kylo is struggling to understand her newfound need for autonomy and space. Sith that he is, Kylo Ren is a man long used to control and command.Patience has never been his strong suit.

Rey is exiting the conversation.He can tell by her body language.His Empress crosses the room to find Snoke’s wife.As usual that Muun Valkyrie is laughing and surrounded by a knot of people.Shan Damask is wearing deep purple in a covered up dress similar to Rey’s only without the shine.And her dress has an oval keyhole neckline that displays an astonishing amount of cleavage at eye level to most of the men in the room.For she towers over Rey and most others in the crowd.

Beside him, the Leader grins appreciatively as he looks his fill at the oncoming pair.“It's good to be us,” Snoke comments as together they watch the two women approach.Each in her own right is very striking tonight.“Yes, we are lucky Sith, Lord Ren.”

Kylo ignores this.“Are there a lot of speeches tonight?” he wants to know.With this many politicians in the room, there are bound to be speeches.

“Yes,” his Master confirms without enthusiasm.“Better keep drinking.”

Several hours and many speeches later, the night is over and Kylo takes Rey back to the apartment.And again, he has the feeling that they have moved in reverse.He and Rey are standing outside the door to the Coruscant apartment in full view of his command shuttle crew and the trooper guards.It's like this is a date, it's time for the goodnight kiss and he's angling for her to invite him in.Do people even date anymore?Or do they just text and hook up?He's old and married now so he doesn't know. And who cares, because he wants to hook up tonight. Here he is, the Emperor of the galaxy, hoping to entice his wife of several years into bed.He could get lucky with any woman on this planet but the only one he wants is Rey.And even though she's his wife, he's worried she will turn him down. 

Kylo reaches to brush back a strand of hair that has come loose from her severe, side parted chignon."Don't make me leave," he tells her softly.

She looks down and then away.Anywhere but his eyes."You can't stay," Rey informs him. "Snoke and Shan are here tonight."

"Who cares?"He doesn’t care.She shouldn’t either.

But she does, for Rey meets his eyes squarely."They'll know!"She hisses this at him as she glares. "Through the Force--they'll know!"

And her girlish dismay almost makes him laugh out loud."Yeah." He leers wickedly at her.All provoking, devilish Sith."They will."Come on, it's not like they are teenagers sneaking around to have sex.They're married adults for Gods' sake.With kids.

"Kylo--"She shakes her head.

"Oh, who cares?We're married.Let me love you.”He reaches for her, pulling her into his arms.“I can make you see the Light," he purrs suggestively into her ear before nuzzling her neck.

"Kylo, no."Rey raises her hands to push back at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

This is stupid.Why are they still doing this?She wants him, he wants her.They're married and there is no shame in this. Plus, he has an audience and Emperor Ren isn't about to look less than smooth in front of his own men.He's got to score tonight or they will all be snickering behind his back. In fact, just thinking of that makes him pull her closer.His lips find hers for a long, deep kiss.When they both come up for air, he urges her again.

"Yes, Rey.Let me love you."

He's determined to do this and to make a good showing with Snoke inside.So abruptly, he sweeps his arm down and takes Rey's legs out from under her."Oh!"She's caught up in his arms now, just like how he carried her off to his shuttle that first day they met.He opens the door with the Force and he's down the now familiar path to her room.

“Kylo, put me down!”

Out of the corner of his eye as he strides down the hall, Kylo sees Snoke and Shan kissing each other breathless on the balcony.And it's weirdly gross--like seeing your parents make out.Yes, you know they do it, but you don't want to think about it. And you definitely don't want to see it.Kylo averts his eyes quickly.

"Put me down."Rey wiggles in his arms.

“As you wish, my lady.”Once they are inside her bedroom, Kylo lays Rey gently down on the bed.She bolts upright and swings her legs over the side, ready to spring to her feet.But Rey doesn’t get the chance.For he falls to his knees before her, hikes up her skirt and grips one of her thighs with each hand and parts them.

“Kylo—“ she complains, kicking at him.But he dodges this and lunges forward to begin trailing kisses up the inside of her left leg.“Oh.”She stops kicking.He takes full advantage of her momentary confusion to expertly unbuckle the holstered snub blaster between her thighs. Again, “Oh.”He tugs at the skimpy panties she wears and she obliges him by lifting her hips and now they are off.Her legs are spread wide at the edge of the bed and he kneels between them to worship her with his mouth.Once more, “Oh.”And now Rey is laying back and groaning.She finds her Light quickly because Kylo knows exactly what she likes.

Then her dress peels off, she kicks her shoes clear across the room and Rey is still perched on the edge of the bed exposed for him.He is naked now as he rises to his feet to begin thrusting hard into her.With his feet on the floor, this position gives him all the leverage and traction he needs to penetrate deep the way he likes.Oh, fuck, Rey feels so warm and slick.He feels invincible as he buries himself within.Like there is nothing that can ever hurt him so long as he can return to the comfort of his wife’s embrace, to the pleasure of her body and to the joy of her Light.And, oh Gods!There she goes again with a long animal cry of release.And this time around, he climaxes along with Rey.It’s perfect. 

He’s a Dark sinner now bathed in forgiving Light, and he luxuriates in the balance of the Force long foretold as the Skywalker legacy.For the opposite perspectives of the Force do not exclusively repel.If allowed, they will attract.This is why her compassionate nature keeps looking to find the good in him, to justify his excesses, to understand and to explain his motivations.And this is why her desire to heal has led her to accept him as he is and to forgive so much already.This is why his Dark urge to control makes him want to take care of her, and why his need to possess leads him to shower her with luxury and status.She is his and he always takes care of his own.She’s been his obsession for years, for he wants this unwanted girl like no other.Their problems are many and the future looks a bit bleak, but for now—just for right now—all is right with the universe.For the throwaway scavenger and the New Republic’s wayward son each love and are loved.

He's on his back, she's on her back and they're both panting as they enjoy the afterglow in comfortable silence.And then, they both sense it.The blaze and flare in the Force.It’s unmistakable.

It must be Snoke and Shan.

Kylo snickers and then Rey giggles.Then they lock eyes together and burst into laughter.

"We're up two-one," Kylo guffaws and at his side Rey blushes and then snort laughs.It's one of those embarrassing goofy sounds that just makes them both laugh harder.And Gods, how long as it been since they have laughed together?Kylo has missed this. 

He glances over at her as he asks what suddenly comes to mind. "What's the most times he ever made you come, Rey?"Yeah--he goes there.He probably shouldn't, but he does. 

"What??" Rey blinks over at him. Her laughter fades.They haven’t spoken directly about Rey being with Snoke since that screaming match in the hallway at Bast many months ago.They have an unspoken agreement not to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole.

"Come on, tell me," he cajoles as he rolls over on top of her. He's resting on his elbows, smiling down at Rey beneath him. Trying to keep this lighthearted.“What’s the most times Snoke ever saw your Light?”

Rey rolls her eyes. "This isn't a competition, Kylo."

Damn straight it is, he thinks.And tonight Kylo is going to win.So fuck, yeah, bring it on.Kylo Ren knows how to please a woman.He's serious about this. "How many times?I need to know, Rey."

She squirms beneath him uncomfortably."I don't know--five maybe?"

"Five??"He sits up now beside her.Damn.Five is a lot.

"Why are we talking about this?Are you obsessing over this?It didn't matter, Kylo.I promise you, it didn't matter to me."

Yeah . . . five times is a lot.Especially since he has been drinking tonight.Kylo would have pounded caf at dinner had he known this would be his bedroom agenda tonight.Five times.Damn.

“You’re obsessing over this, aren’t you?I know you, Kylo—“

"Well, that's two down, three to go," he decides aloud. Well, maybe four to go.He would dearly love to lap Snoke when it comes to this topic.And, yeah, this is really twisted but shit like this only happens in his family.It’s bad enough that they kill one another.And they hurt and torture one another.But fucking your pseudo-daughter-in-law is a new low, even for the Skywalkers.

Rey keeps on her same train of thought."It doesn't matter, Kylo.You know that, right?What he and I did doesn't matter.Only you matter."

"What?"What is Rey saying?

"You're the one I love.Snoke means nothing. You know that, right?It doesn't matter what we did in bed.There's no benchmark here for you to meet, Kylo."

He stares in surprise.Caught off guard by her admission."Wait—back up.You love me?You still love me?"Does he sound desperate?Yeah, he sounds kind of desperate. Maybe because he is.

"I-I--" Rey looks chagrined. Like she hadn't meant to let that slip. Then she starts backtracking."You know that I will always care for you, Kylo."She says this gently now and he can almost hear the unspoken 'but.'

"But you don't love me," he concludes, deflated. 

She reaches over to him now. Trying to soften the blow."No, Kylo, I will always love you.It's just that . . . I'm not in love with you."

Huh?What does that mean?"What??"More and more lately, Rey confounds him. This must be what happens when you give a woman too much freedom and time on her hands, Kylo thinks.She starts to get crazy ideas and to get too independent.Next thing he knows, Rey is going to want to get a job.

"We can't be together, Kylo. Not after all that has happened."

"I don't understand."And that's the honest truth. What the fuck is Rey saying, exactly?Women are so confusing. "You love me.I love you.Why can't we be together?"And now he sounds like he's whining and Kylo Ren does not whine.This is what she has reduced him to. 

Rey sighs."You know why, Kylo."

So they can do this--they can fuck all night like rabbits.She can tell him that she loves him . . . sort of.But they can't be together.Damn it, why is this woman so stubborn?Okay.Whatever.He’s not going to argue.Not tonight when he’s got to get busy again with her.There’s four more times to go, after all.

Enough talking.He leans over to kiss her.Time to get started.

The next morning, Kylo is up early and striding out of the apartment silently smug when he hears Snoke’s voice from behind.

“Apprentice.”

Kylo turns to see Snoke regarding him from the hallway outside of one of the other bedrooms.He’s wearing the black robe with the red Kittat runes that Kylo remembers from when he had walked in on his Master with Rey.

“Yes, Master?”Kylo makes the new poker face he’s been working on.

The Muun eyes him before admonishing, “Quality trumps quantity, my boy.Especially where women are concerned.” 

Kylo just raises an eyebrow.He bites his tongue to keep from uttering the word six.He just nods and turns to resume walking away.

Damn that fucker Darth Plagueis.He always has to have the last word.


	21. Chapter 21

Things are getting better, but still Rey exists under a thin veil of grief and depression. She's not sure how to pull herself out of it.

 

The initial shock of regaining her memory is over.   The very thought of her beloved Sheev is no longer utterly debilitating.  And, yes, there are still tears.  But Rey has thought about Kylo’s betrayal enough, and sufficient time has passed, that some days she can even begin to look at her situation somewhat objectively.  The distance helps.

 

Activity helps too, for Rey is doing more these days.  More outings with Shan, more appearances as Empress and, of course, her visits to Bast.   Rey now goes home four times a week to see her boys. 

 

At a year and a half, the twins are at an adorable but challenging age.  Hego and Bane have dropped their morning nap, so they are ready to play nonstop until lunch.  Exploring their world and discovering new skills week to week.  And, they are discovering the Force.  None of the nannies know what to make of this.  But Rey does.  Because she did this once before.

 

Rey remembers the never-ending tantrums, the Force visions disguised as nightmares, and the obsessive urges to repeat skills over and over again.  She remembers how Sheev would watch his father closely, mimicking him any time he used the Force, sometimes to disastrous results.  She understands now that her boys view babyproofing and locked doors as challenges rather than deterrents.   She knows that her children’s heightened senses make them prone to extreme reactions to minor things.  And like their father and their long gone brother, the twins are quick to anger, fast to frustration and heedless in the face of danger. 

 

These are not normal children, and Rey knows not to expect normal behavior from them.   

 

So when the Empress walks in to find a purple faced and screaming Hego in the arms of a frustrated nanny, Rey knows to take him aside and hand him a blue holochron.  Just holding the Jedi relic used to calm Sheev, and it works with similar success for the twins.  And when things get really bad and Bane is so worked up that he can’t calm down, Rey will just whisk him away to the hidden room in the castle basement that hides the holochrons.  There, in the small room filled with mostly blue cubes, but also red pyramids, her overwhelmed little boy can feel the Force resonate and find his own emotional equilibrium. 

 

One well-meaning but artless day-shift nanny comments on how much it helps the twins to see their mother more often these days.  You must be looking forward to when your work on Coruscant is finished, she tells Rey, because then you will be home again full time.   That leads Rey to wonder what exactly the Bast staff thinks she is doing on Coruscant, for she had just assumed that the entire household knew of her rift with Kylo.   How Milo has managed to keep their separation under wraps is a mystery.

 

But however awkward and guilt-inducing these observations are, at their core they are accurate, Rey knows.  For Kylo is right—her boys need her.  Rey is in a unique position to understand their struggles.  And their need for her will only grow with time as the twins continue to develop in the Force.  Already, her four days a week is not enough.

 

Rey knows that she needs to go home.  And that’s why she ends up sitting on Cresta Cole’s purple couch again.

 

The old lady purses her boldly painted lips as Rey speaks of her situation.  Then the secret Lady Sidious starts imparting her no-nonsense wisdom.  “You need to figure out what you want.  You don’t have to justify it to anyone else, but you will need to justify it to yourself.   Only two people ever really know what goes on in a marriage.  So don’t let other people’s expectations sway you.   And for Gods’ sake, don’t start reading the haters on the holonet.”  Madame Cole peers closely at Rey now.  “Are you one of those girls who cares what other people think?”  She says this like it’s a bad thing.  Then, with a haughty wave and a sniff Coruscant’s Underworld queen adds, “I was never one of those girls.”

 

Well, of course not, Rey thinks, because she is Cresta Cole.  You don’t become a legendary Madame and care about your reputation. 

 

But figuring out what you want in life is easier said than done.  “I just want to be happy,” Rey sputters out.  Desperately, she wants to be happy again.  For once Rey had thought that the loneliness and insecurities of Jakku were behind her as Empress.  But they bedevil her still, only now for completely different reasons. 

 

“Okay, then when was the last time you were happy?”  Pragmatic Cresta Cole seems bound and determined to solve this problem for Rey.  It’s easy to see how this woman built a business empire of her own.  She has an innate pragmatism that resonates with ever practical Rey. 

 

“I was happy before when I didn’t know about Sheev.  When I didn’t know the truth of the past.  And before I . . . before Snoke,” Rey finishes lamely.  She doesn’t want to talk about what she did with Snoke.  

 

“Well, then, there’s your solution.  Get the Muun to wipe your brain again.  And then it will be like none of it ever happened.”  Her hostess smiles brightly at this eureka moment.

 

“What??”  That is NOT the solution Rey had envisioned.

 

Lady Sidious just shrugs her dainty shoulders.  “Well, why not?  It worked last time,” she reasons.

 

“But it was all a lie!  I don’t want to live a lie!”

 

Her ancient hostess calls her on this with a challenging look.  “Look, girl, you yourself are a lie.  Fancy Empress Rey rescued from Jakku into a perfect marriage is a lie.  And unless the Sith have changed in the last thirty years, much of what they are and what they do is a lie.  Oh, I’ve heard their bullshit about how truth depends on your point of view.  But the truth of life with a Sith is pretty ugly.  You know that as well as I do.  So you don’t want to live a lie?  I can respect that.  But then you will have to accept the ugly truth.” 

 

Now the plain spoken Madame Cole gets personal.  “When we first met, my Sheev would tell me how I reminded him of his sister.”  She snorts and frowns.  “How’s that for romantic?  It took me years to learn that his sister was dead.  Dead because Sheev had killed her along with the rest of his family.  How’s that for an ugly truth?”  Lady Sidious shakes her head.  “Killing your kin is some twisted rite of passage for the Sith.  Sheev did it.  And I know your Ren did it.  Only it was couched as a military victory over his mother and his uncle.”  The old dowager scoffs.  “I saw it for what it was all along.”

 

“Kylo killed his father too,” Rey whispers.

 

“Yes, you know where all the bodies are buried, I’ll bet.  Just like I did.   That matters, Rey.   You know his secrets, he knows yours.  That in itself has value.  It’s a twisted kind of intimacy.”  And then Madame Cole says what Rey remembers Snoke once telling her.  “Power can be very lonely.   Your Emperor will become increasingly isolated.  And so will you.  It might be better to be allied together than to be lonely apart.   For over time, you will need each other more than ever.  And not just for fucking your magical Light Side pussy or whatever you call it.”

 

Her magical what??  Rey blinks at this language.  But Cresta Cole just brays out a loud laugh at Rey’s shocked expression. 

 

“Oh, come on, I worked in whorehouses.  I know all about pussy, Empress.  I made good credits off pussy.”  Lady Sidious is beaming and proud as she says this, if you can believe it.  Then she looks at Rey with an expression of respect as she muses, “I was good in bed but not that good.  Sheev never saw the Force when I fucked him.”

 

Then abruptly, the old lady is serious again.  Her demeanor shifts from outrageous to motherly in an instant.  “Look, sometimes you win by just surviving.  If you get through this and you stay together, then you kids will be fine.  And it will all be okay in the end.  That’s how Sheev and I did it.  We were far from a perfect couple.  But he wouldn’t give up and I mostly hung around and we ended up married almost sixty years.” 

 

“Sixty years?” Wow, is all Rey can think.

 

“Yeah, sixty years with a Sith.”  The Lady Sidious grins.  “They ought to put my name on their temple wall.  Because that is an accomplishment.”  And now, she switches topics.  “How is Shan?”

 

“Actually, she’s great,” Rey admits with some jealousy.  “She’s very adaptable, really.  Nothing much seems to phase her.”  And suddenly it dawns on Rey that, all in all, Shan Damask is amazingly chill about being risen from the dead almost a century later. 

 

“That’s the Jedi in her that you’re seeing.  The Jedi were always very Zen about stuff.  They prided themselves in keeping their cool.  They’re nothing like the volatile Sith.  My Sheev would get worked up in an instant and start shooting lightning.  And then five minutes later he was fine.”  The old dowager shakes her head and rolls her eyes.  “He could be worse than a teenaged girl with all his drama.  So high maintenance.”

 

“Yeah,” Rey says as insight flashes up to her.  “I guess that’s how it works for Snoke and Shan.  She’s very low maintenance.” 

 

“I knew Shan briefly and I only knew Snoke through Sheev for the most part.  But I never saw the attraction,” her hostess remarks.   “Him a Sith so Dark, her a Jedi girl so Light.  I have no idea what those two had in common.   Sheev didn't see it either. But then, he would never have fucked a Jedi.  He hated the Jedi after what happened.”   The old dame purses her cherry red painted lips.  “You know, the Muun treated Shan like a queen as far as I could tell.   Well, except for that whole Sith honor killing business.  That didn’t go over so well with Shan, as you can imagine.”  Madame Cole looks to Rey now. “Shan’s a woman who knows a thing or two about a difficult Sith.  Have you asked her for advice?”

 

Well, not really, and the few times Shan Damask has tried to talk to Rey, Rey has shut the conversation down.   She and Shan are companionable friends, but not true confidantes.  Rey can’t help but be suspicious of Shan’s motives given her marriage to Snoke.  And the one time Rey and Shan had spoken of the separation, Shan had seemed to urge Rey to make the best of it.  And really, that’s the advice Madame Cole has given her too.  But somehow it comes out as a lot less ‘stand by your man’ when it comes out of the foul mouth of this sassy old dame.  And that makes the advice much more palatable to Rey.

 

“Shan can be sort of . . . docile.”  Rey can’t think of any other word to describe it.  “For a Jedi, she seems awfully accommodating of Snoke,” the Empress confides.  “Honestly, I expected there to be a lot more conflict between them.”

 

“Oh, she was never the heroine type.  Shan was a perky librarian or something like that.  But, yeah, come to think of it, she turned out very traditional for a Jedi girl.  She wasn’t your typical high-minded, ball-breaking, saber-swinging Jedi woman.”  Lady Sidious gives a wry smile and speaks with something that sounds like begrudging respect.  “Back in the day, some of those Jedi bitches were fierce.”

 

And this gives Madame Cole pause for a moment.  Then, she starts to muse.  “There are different kinds of strength.   You don't have to rule the galaxy and swing a lightsaber to be strong.  Or run a business or command an army.   There's a strength that doesn't come with impressive titles and big accomplishments.  But don't overlook it.  Shan's got that strength.  Lots of women do.”  The old lady settles back in her chair and fixes Rey with a firm look.  “I’m talking about people who persevere and endure.  They hold families together, they find a way to make rent each month, and they deal with the setbacks of life day in, day out.  I saw it all the time with the girls who worked for me.”  She gives Rey an appraising look now.  “Yeah . . . you're one of those women.  The type who will bend but not break.   Don't forget that I know your story.  You are very resilient, Rey.”

 

"That's what Kylo says."

 

Cresta Cole nods.  "He knows you well, then."

 

"Yeah, I suppose he does."   Rey’s datapad starts buzzing loudly on the table beside her.   She forgot to mute it.   It must be a message from Kylo.  And now Rey has the urge to update Cresta Cole on what’s changed between her and Kylo since they last spoke.  "Kylo and I still live apart.  But I see him pretty often now."

 

Old Lady Sidious doesn’t miss a beat.  "See him like you talk to each other?  Or see him like you fuck him?"

 

Rey blushes.

 

"So you fuck him."  Cresta Cole grins ear to ear. 

 

"Yes."

 

The first Empress just shrugs this off.  "Okay, then. Whatever works for you, girl.  You do you."

 

There goes her datapad again. It buzzes loudly. "I'm sorry. I should have muted it," Rey sheepishly tells her hostess.  She picks it up to set it on vibrate and checks to see who is sending her an urgent message.  Did something happened to one of her boys?  

 

The message is not from her husband or Milo.  It's from Shan and it's marked urgent.  It’s blinking, flashing, screaming URGENT.  "Excuse me a moment," Rey frowns and opens it. 

 

_Snoke knows.  Trust no one._

 

What?   Rey reads the message again.  Then a third time.  She has no idea what it means other than it is a warning.  And, oh Gods, Rey has a bad feeling about this. 

 

"What is it?"  Lady Sidious demands. "You look white as a sheet."

 

"I don't know," Rey confesses.  "I don't understand it."

 

"Hmmph.  You understood it enough to look scared," Madame Cole observes tartly.

 

"Here," Rey hands over the datapad. 

 

Lady Sidious reads the message and then sighs.  "Nice of her to give you a head's up.  Shan always was a nice girl."

 

"What does it mean?"  What’s going on, Rey wonders.  Suddenly, she’s very afraid of what she doesn’t know.

 

"If I had to guess, I’d say it means your man is plotting against the Muun.  And he got caught."  Cresta Cole states the obvious inference.  “The Apprentice always makes a move against his Master. That is the way of the Sith.  And your man certainly has ample reason."

 

"What do I do?"  Rey whispers.  

 

Cresta Cole looks her in the eye.   She’s experienced in this sort of thing.  "If I’m right, then this is a coup attempt.  You flee and you hope your man wins."

 

Rey swallows hard. 

 

“Go!”  Old Lady Sidious commands her and Rey needs no further urging.  She’s on her feet and out the door, yanking the hood of her long black cape down over her features.  The pair of stormtroopers waiting in the hallway are hot on her heels and nothing seems out of the ordinary as Rey climbs into the waiting speeder and instructs them to take her back to Snoke’s apartment.   But as the speeder approaches the rooftop landing platform, Rey sees that a First Order shuttle is idling next to her red TIE.   A uniformed officer awaits her arrival in front of a squad of troopers.  They have their guns drawn.

 

Going to back the apartment might have been a big mistake, Rey realizes.   But there’s no turning back now.  She takes a deep breath and summons the Force.  The Force never fails Rey when she is desperate.   She is going to talk her way out of this, if she can. 

 

So the Empress alights from the speeder as if nothing is amiss.  She marches straight up to the waiting First Order officer.  He bows slightly at her approach, then tells her lies in clipped tones, “There is a credible threat against you, Empress.  We are here to keep you safe.”  He gestures to the shuttle ramp.  “If you will get onboard the shuttle, we will take you to a secure location.”

 

The Empress nods and then stares deeply into the officer’s eyes from beneath her hood.  “You don’t need to take me to a secure location.”  Her voice is thick with suggestion in the Force.  The officer blinks back at her and Rey repeats, “You don’t need to take me to a secure location.”

 

“I don’t need to take you to a secure location.”

 

“Very good,” she approves and the man smiles automatically.  “You will personally accompany me to Bast Castle in my TIE.”  Again, the man blinks at her with blank eyes.  So Rey repeats once more the heavy mental urging, “Lieutenant, you will personally accompany me to Bast Castle in my TIE.”

 

“I will personally accompany you to Bast Castle in your TIE.”

 

“And you will dismiss your men.”

 

“I will dismiss my men.”

 

Five minutes later, Rey is prepping the TIE for takeoff with the hapless lieutenant at her side.  Her prototype TIE is a two-seater, so there is no ability to carry any troopers with them.  Which is just as well. 

 

As soon as her TIE breaks Coruscant’s orbit and makes the jump to lightspeed on course for Naboo, Rey stands and turns away from her conscripted co-pilot.  Ostensibly, she discretely adjusts the now muddled long skirt of her dress.  TIE cockpits were not designed with elegant red day gowns in mind as attire for pilots.  The lieutenant respectfully averts his gaze so he misses the flash of lean thigh as Rey reaches for her hidden snub blaster.   Stealthily, she adjusts it to maximum stun.  Then the Empress turns and calmly fires.

 

Rey doesn’t know what Kylo is up to or how it will turn out.  But she knows that her two little boys are alone and defenseless at Bast Castle.  The little princes in Vader’s tower might be innocent children, but they are the next Skywalkers in line for succession as Sith.  And that makes them very vulnerable to a vengeful Darth Plagueis who might just decide to vent his rage on what’s left of his doomed clan.   Normally, the Jakku survivor Rey would run from danger.  She long ago learned that’s how you live to fight another day.  But this is different.  Rey is bound and determined to run headlong towards danger today.

 

Rey has already lost one boy to the Sith.  She’s not going to lose another. 

 

As soon as her ship enters the Naboo system, it’s clear that Rey has been found out.  A squadron of regular short range TIEs surround her ship as their commander sternly informs Rey that they will escort her directly to Bast.  Rey doesn’t bother to reply over the comlink channel, but she doesn’t resist either.  Once at Bast, Rey sets her ship down in its usual spot right up front.   

 

Climbing out of her prototype TIE in her best dress and Sith cloak isn’t exactly graceful, but Rey manages.  At least the voluminous fabric hides the snub blaster that’s still clutched in her hand.  That’s key because a squad of troopers has formed a wide perimeter around her ship.  Rey calmly ignores this and strides forward to the castle entrance. 

 

Milo awaits her there, as usual.  But the presence of the frowning First Order officer waiting at his side is anything but typical.

 

“Welcome home, Empress.”  Milo gives her his standard bow and greeting.  But his demeanor lacks all of his usual warmth.   His kindly, wrinkled eyes are warning her. 

 

The officer at his side waves Milo away dismissively and rudely steps in front of him.  “You are under arrest, Empress,” he announces.

 

“On whose authority?” Rey demands.

 

The officer looks caught off guard by this question.  Apparently, like the rest of the First Order, he’s not used to accounting for his actions where arrests are concerned.  The Sixth Amendment and Due Process are not big in Kylo’s Empire.  He thinks for a minute and then settles on, “By my authority as a Major in the First Order.”

 

Rey coolly raises an eyebrow at this.  “For what charge?”

 

Again, this Major seems annoyed at having to explain himself.  “It’s for your own protection, my lady.”

 

Rey draws herself up to her full height and stares haughtily at her would-be captor.   She might be trash from Jakku, but she’s in full Sith Empress attire and demeanor now.  _Noli me tangere_ , fuckers.  “The last man who tried to arrest me was General Phelps on the _Finalizer_ ,” Rey informs this obnoxious officer.  “Did you know Phelps, Major?  He was my husband’s second-in-command at the end of the war.  Phelps arrested me for treason and two hours later Kylo cleaved him in two with his lightsaber.”

 

“Lady—“ the Major tries unsuccessfully to interrupt.

 

But Rey is emboldened by her need to get to her sons.  All mother bear rushing to their rescue.  No one is going to stand in her way.  “Only two people in this galaxy have authority over me, Major.  The Supreme Leader and the Emperor.  I do not answer to you.”

 

“Lady—“  Again, the Major tries to break in.

 

But she speaks over him with a glare.  “I am accountable only to the Sith.” 

 

The Major steps forward and Rey’s right hand flashes up to reveal her snub blaster.  Once again, Rey fires.  The stun bolt hits the Major flush in the chest and he drops to the ground. 

 

The Empress neatly sweeps over him as the assembled troopers stand in stunned confusion over what to do next.  Do they fire on the Empress?  Arrest her?  No one seems to know how to handle this situation. 

 

Milo doesn’t raise an eyebrow.  He simply offers Rey his arm and together they enter the castle.  “I’m here to see the boys,” she leans in to tell the castlekeeper.  Milo is Snoke’s man through and through, but still Rey trusts him.  She probably shouldn’t, but she does.  “Milo, what’s going on?”

 

“The Sith are settling their differences,” he replies ominously.  “Nestor Ren has been arrested for treason.”

 

Rey looks sharply at Milo.  “Oh, no.”

 

He continues revealing bad news.  “Anyone connected with the Ren is under suspicion, my lady.  Yourself included.”  The old retainer halts and looks Rey squarely in the eye.  “Do not attempt to flee, my lady.  It will only make things worse.”

 

Rey nods her understanding.  Yes, she knows.  Snoke himself has told her that there is no sanctuary from the Sith.  There is nowhere to hide from Darth Plagueis.  But damn it, Snoke owes her.  For healing him and for healing Shan. 

 

Rey takes a deep, ragged breath.  Whatever is really going on and however this turns out, she will stand by her children to the end.  “I’m here to protect my boys.  I’m not running away, Milo.  I’m through running away.” 

 

Behind her, Rey hears the feet of many stormtroopers.  She glances back to see most of the squad now following her and Milo into the castle.  Maybe she should be more frightened, but it’s not the first time Rey has been a prisoner at Bast Castle. 

 

As she and Milo enter, Hego comes bounding up to her first.  He happily slams his little body into her leg.  “Mama!” he squeals as she bends to lift him high above her head.  Unlike Sheev who was the picture of his father with pale skin, black hair and dark eyes, the twins are a mix of her and Kylo.  But of the two, Hego looks the most like the famous Lord Ren. 

 

As Rey hugs the little boy tightly, she can’t help but wonder where Kylo is and what’s happening to him now.  Is she already a widow?  Rey knows that in the high stakes game of power of the Sith, you don’t just lose, you die.  And that thought fills Rey with regrets.  She bites her lip.  Oh, Kylo, she thinks.  Come home to me. 


	22. Chapter 22

_People die in my fics—please be warned._

 

 

"Enter, Apprentice.  I have been expecting you."

 

Kylo steps forward into the Supreme Leader’s gloomy audience chamber projecting a confidence that he does not truly feel.  For from the moment he had received his Master’s terse summons, Kylo has been on edge.  And then as his shuttle had landed just now, he received the forwarded message from Rey on his datapad with the cryptic warning from Snoke’s wife.  It had been too late to turn back. 

 

He glances over now to see Nestor Ren standing off to the side in shackles.  Yes, today Kylo’s worst fears have come true.  He sees that there are trails of blood coming from his friend’s nostrils and ears.  It’s the telltale sign that Darth Plagueis has been in Nestor's head and he has not been gentle.  That means his Master knows everything.

 

The game is up and Kylo has lost.  And in a Sith power struggle, the loser is a dead man.   

 

His life has had several of these reckoning moments already.  Kylo had been still a child when his furious uncle had chased him halfway across the galaxy.  The Last Jedi had caught up with the fifteen-year-old runaway assassin Ben Solo for an ugly confrontation.  That duel had been more words than blows, but his teenaged self had only escaped death thanks to a promise his uncle had made to his parents.  Then years later, as a man Kylo had stood before his Sith Master in humbling defeat after the Starkiller.  The Muun had been far more concerned with his beat down at the hands of Rey than he had the loss of the First Order’s doomsday weapon.  Only years later had Kylo understood why.  Then again, Kylo had crossed swords with his uncle while the outcome of a war and the safety of his family hung in the balance.  This time when he met the Jedi the words were few but the blows were many. 

 

Those prior showdowns had all resonated with a pulsating drumbeat of fate. For here was destiny at play choosing sides among Skywalkers.  Whether related by blood, by marriage or by the Force, this was his family rearranging the balance of power for the galaxy.  Those meetings had carried the weight of history.   

 

But now as Kylo stands before his Master, this doesn't feel like fate.  This feels like a colossal fuck up.  It's one thing to try and to fail.  It's another thing to have the plot foiled before he even had settled on a strategy.   How did this happen?

 

Kylo risks a glance over at Nestor.  His oldest friend is ashen faced but square jawed.  He reminds Kylo of how Hux had looked on the holovids as he stood before the Resistance firing squad.   Yes, the First Knight knows what's coming.  Nothing can save Nestor now. 

 

Or him, for that matter.

 

His Master sits enthroned up high, hooded and shrouded in black like the Sith he is.  His Force imprint is pure Darkness unmasked and unleashed, a rarity that speaks to the depths of his Master's rage.   The ever careful Darth Plagueis is letting it all hang out today.

 

Kylo spies movement in the shadows to the left of Snoke.  It's that Jedi wife of his.  She looks the part of a Sith's lady gowned in flowing black.   Shan crosses to stand behind his Master's chair and she lays a calming hand on his shoulder.  Snoke doesn't look up, but automatically moves to cover her hand with his own.  His Master's comment is spoken low, but Kylo catches the gist. "You should not witness this, my dear.  It will only upset you."   Shan's answering smile is noncommittal.  Lady Plagueis does not withdraw. 

 

The Muun stands now to his full towering height.  He throws back his hood to reveal the shining feral eyes that are a testament to his centuries of Darkness.   Behold him, the eternal Sith with the power of a god.  With the Force, Darth Plagueis creates life, he prolongs life, he ends life, and he resurrects the dead.   This man is the ultimate power in the universe, not some technological terror the bureaucrats cook up. 

 

He stares down at Kylo in silence.  Seething.   

 

“Did you think that I would not know?  That you could outsmart me?”  His Master’s outrage hangs in the air as he pauses.  The Muun has always had a habit of slow speech.  It makes the listener hang on every word.  But today Kylo can barely hear over his own pounding heart.  “I have not survived this many years without being very careful.”

 

The Muun descends the stairs and walks up to Kylo.  “I was once an Apprentice who plotted to kill my Master.  And several times now, I have been the Master who has been plotted against.  I knew you would try this.  And I knew you would try this soon.”

 

Kylo is not in the mood for pointless apologies.  So he glares at Snoke.  “You had it coming.” 

 

His Master ignores this. 

 

“How you disappoint me, my son.  You plot to scuttle my ship, to bomb my home, to poison my wine.  Those are cowardly tactics more in keeping with your terrorist mother than a Sith Apprentice.  They are unworthy of you.”  The Muun’s eyes travel Kylo’s form with obvious distaste.  His Master’s expression oozes contempt.  “Afraid to face me, were you?  You should be.  For never once have I been beaten with a sword in my hand.   Both Jedi and Sith have fallen to my blade and today you shall too.”

 

Now his Master’s eyes dart over to Nestor Ren.  And, again, he is contemptuous.  “This is a matter between Sith.  A contest of power repeated over and over in our tradition for millennia.  And yet you would enlist an outsider to your cause.   I am a modern man and I change with the times, but I draw the line at involving lesser beings in our affairs.”  His Master’s lip curls as he regards the shackled man who is one of the First Order’s top military commanders.  “Nestor Ren cannot even contemplate Darkness!   He is a servant of the Sith.  He does not decide their fate.”

 

“He is loyal,” Kylo speaks for his friend. 

 

“More so than you,” Snoke snaps back.  He gestures dismissively to Nestor.  “Kill him.  Kill him now, Apprentice.  Show him the power of the Dark Side.”

 

But Kylo shakes his head no.  “Your fight is with me.  Not with him.”   It’s futile, he knows.  But Kylo will at least attempt to deflect his Master’s rage.  He owes that to his friend.

 

“Oh, we will fight, Apprentice, we will fight,” Snokes assures him.  “But Nestor Ren is your co-conspirator in treason and he does not have the privilege of being a Sith.”  His Master warns Kylo now.  “If you do not kill him, I will.  And I will not be as quick and clean about it as you will be for your longtime friend.”

 

Kylo swallows hard.  He hazards a glance at Nestor.  His friend meets his eyes and nods slightly.  And, well, Nestor might accept this but Kylo won’t.  He looks away and his wandering eyes now find the silent Muun woman still standing behind Snoke’s throne.  Her face looks grave and frightened.  Shan Damask has no better poker face than Kylo does without his mask. 

 

“It’s alright, Kylo,” Nestor breaks the tense silence.  His voice is very calm.  The First Knight has long been a fighting man and he does not panic.  Ever.  Again, Nestor nods to Kylo.  “Take care of Cesi and the girls for me.”

 

Fuck!  Nestor’s trying to make this easy for him.   His friend is dependable and loyal to the end.  How many times did he and Nestor booze and brawl their way through Coruscant together on furloughs?  Gods, Kylo had even stood up in his wedding years ago.  This is Nestor who Rey had knocked two teeth out of one night at Bast when he mistook her for a whore.  Nestor who had volunteered to rescue his wife from the Resistance when Snoke had ordered Kylo to remain in command on the _Finalizer_ bridge.   Years of war and death have raised them both from boys to men.  And through it all, Nestor has been there by his side.  Maybe it’s fitting that they should die together today.  But fuck, he can’t be the one to do it!  This might be a mercy killing, but it feels like such a betrayal.   He knows that Nestor has to die, but Kylo had not known that he would be his friend’s killer.

 

“Kill him.” 

 

Kylo takes a fortifying breath and summons his courage.  He lights his sword and walks a few steps to face his friend.  Then with a whirl and a Force-assisted lunge, Kylo’s sword swings down.

 

Straight for Snoke.

 

The Muun does not anticipate the strike, but he leaps back in the nick of time.  Incredibly, he’s laughing.  It’s an open mouthed cackle that makes his yellow eyes seem to dance with excitement.  “Oh, very good!  I have been looking forward to this.”   

 

“So have I,” Kylo grinds out.   He waits as his Master shrugs out of his Sith robe.  Underneath, Snoke is in a surcoat that matches his own.  And from his waist he snatches a crossguard Sith saber that ignites.  Kylo recognizes it from their prior confrontation in the bedroom.  This time, Snoke doesn’t hold his sword down.  It’s up and poised to attack. 

 

And attack, he does.  Kylo is instantly on the defensive.  What the Hell fighting style is this?  The Apprentice can only identify about half of his Master’s swings from among the traditional lightsaber fighting forms.  Plus, the Muun’s footwork seems to be a mix of Jedi and Sith patterns.  He’s driving Kylo back fast to the far wall and Kylo is forced to leap over him with the Force to escape.  It’s a risky move, but it pays off.    

 

Damn, his Master is fast for such a big man.  Snoke’s sword is a blur of red dancing before Kylo’s eyes.   His vision can't keep up with its speed, so he relies on instinct.  Letting the Dark Force flow through him. 

 

“Good.  Good.”  Snoke seems to think that this is a teaching moment.  Like they are back on Mygeeto now and Kylo is the teenage trainee learning to use a sword.   

 

After several more passes, Kylo has a better measure of his opponent and Snoke mixes it up again.  Because now his Master starts talking.  It’s a distraction Kylo doesn’t need.  If Snoke were taunting him, Kylo could simply ignore it.  But now, Snoke wants to have a conversation in the midst of this desperate fight. 

 

“Tell me, is she worth it?  Is your wife worth sowing discord between us?  Is she worth dying for?”

 

“Yes.”  Rey is worth this.  Absolutely. 

 

Snoke cocks his head to the side as he shares, “I asked myself the very same question.  Is Shan worth pitting us against one another and risking the work of several lifetimes between us?  For the last time two Sith turned on one another, an empire fell and the whole galaxy paid the price.  But, yes, my Shan is worth it.”  Snoke smiles ruefully now as he muses, “The Skywalker men all fall hard.  Do you remember when I told you that?  I include myself in that statement, Kylo Ren.  Yes, I include myself.”

 

The Muun’s reach is very long and twice Kylo leaps back from a stab that comes too close for comfort.  His Master laughs like a gleeful child.  Like this is a game he is winning and not a duel to the death.  “I almost took your arm that time, Apprentice.  Be more careful.” 

 

And now Snoke is back to his jabbering.  "When I created our family in the Force, I did not comprehend the significance.  Time has opened my eyes.  We Skywalkers are the ruling dynasty of the galaxy.  Yet we are also squandered potential, misguided zeal and tragedy rolled into one.  Two generations so far have stumbled.  I had hoped that you would be different.” 

 

Snoke punctuates this thought with a vicious swing at Kylo’s legs.  He leaps just high enough to clear it.   And then Snoke resumes his family history lecture as their swords again engage.

 

“Years ago your grandfather and I plotted to save your uncle.  To bring home the lost boy who was stolen from us and raised to revere the ideals of an obsolete fanatical cult.  We failed.  Our failure had massive ramifications for the galaxy.” 

 

“But I did not give up on my Jedi grandson.  Your uncle had completely misunderstood his father, from their first meeting until their last moments.  Your uncle never understood the tragic figure his father truly was.  A man who had made the brave choices to abandon the Jedi and to reform the Republic, only to put his faith in a Master who let him down.  Sidious lied to Vader about his ability to save your grandmother, he lied to Vader about his role in the Empire, and he refused to teach Vader even the most rudimentary skills of the Dark Side.”

 

“That fool Luke Skywalker was too blinded by the lies of the Jedi to see beyond their dogma.  Imagine thinking that a Sith like Vader would run to the Light in a last ditch deathbed conversion.  Vader killed Sidious to save his son yes, but Vader had wanted to kill his Master for years.  Luke Skywalker was a convenient excuse and the perfect opportunity.   Vader’s motivation from sentiment was regrettable, but the act itself was not.”

 

Kylo says nothing to this lecture.  Does Snoke think he’s going to bait him by trashing his grandfather?  Kylo knows better.  Darth Vader was a hero.  Not some tragic stooge.  He refuses to listen to this heresy.

 

“I stalked Luke Skywalker for years before I finally confronted him. You did not know that, did you?  You were a small child at the time.  The Jedi thought I had come to kill him.  Instead, I came to reason with him.  To welcome home our prodigal prince and to offer him everything a man could ever want.  Knowledge, power, wealth, position, family and all the attachments a lonely Jedi could ever want.   How disappointed I was when he turned me down.  Vader turned me down at first too, but then he reconsidered.  Alas, your uncle did not.”

 

Whatever.  Luke Skywalker is dead and Kylo has nothing to say to this.   Plus, he can’t break his concentration or he’s going to lose a limb.  Kylo is panting so hard that he doubts he could speak anyway.

 

“After your uncle denied me, I sat back to wait for you.  For Ben Skywalker Solo, my great-grandson in the Force.  And you, my boy, were worth waiting for.  You are the best of Vader all over again.  A warrior Sith, but with other talents too.  I had so much left to teach you, my son.  You could have been much more than just the conquering Jedi Killer.” 

 

Snoke disengages and he steps back now.  The Muun’s brow is furrowed as he contemplates Kylo with regret.  “You might have been the greatest of the Skywalkers.  You have the military mind of your grandfather and your uncle's power in the Force.   And you have long since surpassed your mother's leadership skills.  You are a credit to me, Lord Ren.  I shall miss you.”

 

Maybe it’s a moment of true candor, but then again with wily, manipulative old Darth Plagueis probably not.  Kylo smirks across at the Muun.  “I’m not dead yet.”

 

Snoke chuckles darkly at this bravado and launches back at Kylo.  The pace is too fast for Kylo to maintain and he can feel himself tiring.  He needs to slow this down before he makes a mistake.  Once again, the Muun is completely controlling the fight.  

 

So at the first opening, Kylo kicks Snoke squarely in the chest.  Another man would go down from that blow. But his Master just staggers back a step.  Then, he scoffs at the attempt.  "Next time put your weight into it.  You can do better than that, boy."

 

Yes, he can.   But Kylo won’t be lured into repeating that move and losing his leg in the process.  So when his Master goes in for another pass, Kylo throws him across the room with a mighty Force push.

 

"Better?" Kylo sneers. He watches his Master spring back up easily.  The man is loose and flexible.  Nothing like the decrepit lumbering ogre who used to inhabit this chamber.   

 

"Yes," his opponent agrees with an appreciative grin. "I haven't had this much fun in decades," the Muun confesses and his words ring true in the Force.  The relaxed Darth Plagueis is enjoying himself as Kylo desperately fights for his life.  I should have killed him years ago, Kylo thinks.  It would have been so easy back then.

 

While Darth Plagueis has been talking, Kylo has been watching.  For surely the man has some weakness that he can exploit.  The Muun favors his left side slightly, he’s noticed.  And he must have learned to fight with a double-bladed saber originally because his Master always compensates for the counter swing of the second blade.  A traditional saber has no such risk.  So based on this analysis, two quick lefts are Kylo’s new strategy, and he bides his time waiting for an opening.

 

“It will be a long time before I get to do this again,” Snoke comments with a sigh.  As if killing his Apprentice is such an inconvenience.  “I have years to wait before I can stick a sword in the hands of your little Sith,” he complains.    

 

And there it is—his opening.  Kylo makes his move and the two swords lock for a moment.  And then, as if in slow motion, Kylo sees his own saber fly from his grasp.  What the fuck?  Then down he goes hard to his knees from a punishing kick that sweeps across his jaw.  Kylo recovers to lift his head and find Snoke’s sword tip poised at eye level.

 

His dismay must show on his face for the Muun is moved to comment, "Sidious never could manage to block that move, either.  It is an ancient disarming pass that only works with a crossguard Sith saber.  I found it in one of Bane’s holochrons."  Kylo could care less about the provenance of his demise.  But even now, at the end, nerdy old Darth Plagueis the Wise wants to teach. 

 

“You have fought well, Apprentice.  But the Force is not with you today.”  Snoke reaches out his left hand and Kylo’s lost sword flies into it to ignite.  With care, the Muun crosses the two swords and positions a saber tip to hover over each of Kylo’s shoulders. 

 

The Apprentice is cornered.  And about to lose his head.   

 

Kylo should be scared, but strangely he isn’t.  Fuck old Plagueis.  Kylo Ren is a proud Sith and he isn't going to beg.  He knew the risks and he took the chance.  At least he will die with dignity.  Thankfully, no one is throwing him down a reactor shaft.

 

No, this is far more fitting, Kylo thinks.  For yet again a Skywalker will fall to one of their own.  His family excels at this, he knows.  And Kylo himself has done more than his share of the killing.  What comes around, goes around. And, really, his family has never had good karma.  They are gifted with the Force but cursed all the same.  Destiny is a bitch if you’re a Skywalker.  In time, another generation will get its chance, for the cycle begins again and fate resets itself with his twin boys.

 

Soon another Skywalker will be dead. Long live the Skywalkers.

 

Rey was worth it. Kylo hopes she will understand that he did this for her.  Well, yeah, he did it for himself and his pride too.  But it was mostly for Rey.  Had he and Nestor settled on a plan of attack, Kylo would have told her in advance and they could have said their goodbyes.  But he never got the chance. 

 

Kylo takes comfort in the fact that only he will die.  His family will survive. Rey will be safe because his Master covets her healing power and you never know when you might need that when you are planning to live forever. Hego and Bane will be safe because they are the next generation of Sith.    His Master will mold them and teach them.  For if nothing else, old Snoke is an excellent teacher.   

 

Now that the trial by combat is finished, his Sith Master is prepared to carry out the sentence.  "Any last request, Apprentice?"  Snoke thinks he is being magnanimous. It grates on Kylo.

 

"Fuck you."

 

"For shame, Apprentice.   There is a lady present."  Gentlemanly old Snoke chides Kylo like he's Miss Manners.   The Muun’s slow voice drips with disdain.  “But then again, you have never had much respect for women, have you?  Well, today you will show respect for Lady Plagueis.  At least try to die with some dignity."

 

"Fuck you."  Kylo doubles down on the offense. He's got nothing to lose.  He'll keep his pride.  It’s all he’s got.

 

The old Muun looks down at him with exasperation.  With deep disappointment.  He sighs heavily and repositions the swords slightly. "Prepare to meet the Force, my son."   He holds Kylo's gaze for a moment, then looks down at the crossed Sith sabers he wields.   Snoke’s voice is softer now.  And somewhat choked.  "I regret that it has come to this."

 

Me too, Kylo thinks.  Me too, father.  For this Sith is more father to him than Han Solo had ever been.  More accepting, more encouraging, more inspiring than the unreliable pirate who sired him.  And still, he had betrayed Kylo.  And that had hurt far worse than his real father walking out on him years ago.  But he is Sith and Snoke is Sith and betrayal comes with the territory. 

 

Kylo lowers his eyes.  He's ready to get this over with. 

 

"Do not kill him."

 

In the cavernous chamber, silent but for the buzz of two sabers, these words are a stage whisper. But they might as well be a scream.

 

Snoke hesitates. 

 

"Do not kill him."  The voice is Shan Damask who still stands behind Snoke's empty throne.

 

"Once again, my wife is your champion, Apprentice."  His Master frowns down at him.  Then smirks as he spits out his sarcasm.   "It's supposed to work the other way around. You save the girl. She doesn't save you."

 

"Do not kill him." Shan speaks firmly and louder this time.  She descends the steps now to stand a couple of meters behind her husband.

 

"He must die. He plots to kill me."

 

"You would be disappointed if he had not," Lady Plagueis says softly.

 

Snoke looks annoyed by his wife's interference.  He barks out, “I will not tolerate another murderous Apprentice."

 

"Every Apprentice seeks to supplant his Master.  That is the way of the Sith," Shan reminds her husband.   “You did the same.”

 

"Lord Ren has far more authority and visibility than any prior Apprentice."  His Master’s impatient tone says it all.   Plagueis does not appreciate having to justify himself to his wife.  But he’s doing it nevertheless.  "He has no need to supplant me.  I give him plenty of glory in his own right."

 

"Lord Ren was provoked," she says with much dignity and understatement.   Snoke's wife speaks her words softly but this Jedi is determined.   Suddenly, she reminds Kylo of Luke Skywalker.  There is far more depth to this woman's influence than Kylo has realized. 

 

“You know that this is less about seizing your power than it is about protecting and honoring Lady Ren.” 

 

"Using her was necessary," Snoke maintains.  

 

"I'm sure Lord Ren feels his revenge was necessary too."   Shan steps closer now as she opens a new line of argument. "You need him. It will be thirty years before his boys are fit to rule."

 

"I have the time," Snoke boasts.  And Kylo knows it's true. Darth Plagueis has forever. 

 

"But your Empire doesn't.  And you will have to hold it together in the meantime,” Shan reminds her husband.   "Mercy, my Sith," she urges him gently.  "You each are stronger together." 

 

Snoke says nothing.  He's thinking, Kylo realizes.  He can see it in the Muun's face.

 

Shan takes another step closer.  "Lord Ren never even made an attempt.  They never got past the planning stages.  And he was reluctant."

 

His Master is not persuaded.  "No one who betrays a Sith lives!"

 

"I did." 

 

“That was different.”

 

“That was worse.”

 

Kylo looks up at Snoke's wife, impressed by her tenacity on his behalf.  She might be garbed in sepulchral black, but her Force imprint is pure shining Light.  This woman might just be his guardian angel, he thinks.  For twice now, she has intervened on his behalf.  And now she must see Snoke's doubts because she offers, “Make Lord Ren atone for his sin.  But let him live." 

 

Kylo watches his Master scowl.  The Muun looks almost uncomfortable now.  Yes, he truly is wavering.  "Don't beg, my dear. He's not worth it."

 

"We both know he is,” she corrects him quietly.  “And he is our family."  Shan shakes her head sadly.  "The Skywalkers have killed enough of their own.  We should protect this family, not destroy it.  We are stronger together.  Show him mercy, my Sith."

 

His Master is still deliberating, Kylo sees.  And a glimmer of hope forms in his lost Dark soul. 

 

Shan takes a deep breath and she suggests a compromise. "Give him the mark of a Skywalker, Darth Plagueis.  Forever will he be branded as one of your own.  It will be a reminder for life of your authority."

 

Snoke considers.

 

“It is almost tradition now, is it not?  I had it.  The son and the grandson had it.  Now it is time for your great-grandson to have it.”

 

His Master nods.  He is decided now.  "As you wish, my dear." 

 

Then Snoke swings one saber to expertly take off Kylo's right hand at the wrist.

 

“Aaaargggh!" Kylo cries out his agony for the briefest of moments before he stoically bites down hard on his lower lip.  He's unwilling to give Snoke the satisfaction of seeing him wail.  But fuck this hurts!  As a Sith Apprentice, Kylo has endured more than his share of pain but this takes it to a whole new level.   The wound is a burn and a dismemberment combined.  Chewie's crossbow shot felt like nothing compared to this.  Kylo is sweating and panting through the searing pain as he clutches at the stump of his arm.

 

Almost involuntarily, Kylo looks up to lock eyes with his savior.  But Snoke's Jedi wife looks upon him now with unseeing eyes.  Her face is a mask of horror.  Kylo knows instantly that Shan Damask is reliving the moments of her own violent death.   The woman looks utterly destroyed.   If all the Old Republic Jedi were this squeamish, Kylo thinks, it’s no wonder the Jedi Order fell.  But still, he can’t help but feel kind of sorry for her.

 

Kylo's face must betray his concern because Snoke half turns as he follows Kylo's gaze to his wife.  His Master scowls and snarls, "Shan, I warned you not to watch!"  Snoke looks annoyed and alarmed and angry all at once.  His eyes narrow as he bellows loudly at his stricken wife.  "I warned you!" 

 

The Muun's chest is heaving now with barely contained rage that is searching for an outlet.   Darth Plagueis might have bowed to his wife’s reasoning, but the intense emotion of the confrontation still needs to be released.     

 

Kylo knows that look.  It’s bloodlust.  His Sith Master still needs to kill.  

 

So Darth Plagueis roars out his rage at Nestor Ren who has stood a silent witness to it all. "You started this!  You!"  And with a leap and a twirling spin, Snoke's saber arcs down to decapitate Nestor Ren. 

 

His Master deactivates his sword now and stalks over to the trembling Lady Plagueis.  Watching Nestor Ren’s execution has not helped matters for her.  “That’s how Caar died, isn’t it?” she whispers.  “Sidious took my boy’s head.”  She looks like she’s about to faint. 

 

The Muun reaches an arm around his wife’s shoulders as he sweeps her from the room, leaning in to complain, "My dear, you must let me erase those memories. Let me fix this for you as only I can." 

 

The Apprentice is forgotten now.  Left behind in their wake. 


	23. Chapter 23

As his command shuttle touches down at Bast Castle, Kylo sees two things that let him know that everything will be alright.  Rey's red TIE is parked on the landing platform and old Milo is waiting to greet him. 

 

He takes a deep breath and flexes his new mechanical right hand.  It still hurts like a motherfucker. Smath has told him that the pain will lessen slowly over the next few months as the artificial nerve endings of the prosthetic grow together with his body.  But there is nothing anyone can do to speed up that process.  And since the prosthetic is only days old, it feels awkward and foreign.  More like something on his body, and not a part of his body. 

 

Kylo no longer wears his mask, but he still dons his gloves.  And so the galaxy at large will not know of his punishment.  But his intimates will, of course.  And every time he takes off his glove, he will be reminded of his place as the Apprentice.   Forever the Apprentice. 

 

Well, at least for now.  Until the boys grow up.

 

"Welcome home, Lord Ren."   Milo says these words with genuine relief.  

 

The two men lock eyes as Kylo repeats his customary reply.  "Thank you, Milo.  It’s good to be back."  These words are more than lip service today.  For it truly is good to be back.   Kylo couldn’t wait to get away from the medics at Snoke’s stronghold.  And to get away from Snoke. 

 

He sees Milo's eyes dart down to his new metal hand.  The old keeper looks concerned.  "Come, my boy."  Milo gestures him forward.  "I can help you."

 

"Is Rey here?"  His wife's TIE is here, but he doesn't sense her in the Force.  That's strange. 

 

"The Empress is attending a funeral today."

 

Oh. It must be Nestor's.  A fresh wave of guilt washes over him at the thought of his slain friend.  Snoke was right.  He should never have involved Nestor.  But it’s too late now.  It is good of Rey to attend the services, Kylo thinks.   He wishes he himself could have gone.

 

"Is the pain very bad?" Milo asks as they walk.

 

Kylo doesn't answer and that tells Milo everything.  "We will give it a bromide wash to calm the nerve endings.  It is critical to keep it very clean these first few weeks."

 

"Did Smath already brief you?" Kylo asks, wondering how much Milo knows. This old servant seems to know everything.  And he always knows far more than he lets on, Kylo has noticed.

 

"No, my boy.  But many years ago, I served as valet to your grandfather.  Lord Vader had a number of prosthetics, and he would periodically update and replace them.   I'm sure the technology has changed by now.  But the discomfort probably hasn't.  Your grandfather had a few tricks for how to manage things until the pain died down."

 

Kylo nods and inwardly reprimands himself to stop whining.  If Darth Vader had three of these prosthetics, he ought to be able to handle just one.  Kylo glances over now at the slight man who walks at his side. "Is there anything you can't do, Milo?" he asks with true admiration.

 

"I do not have the Force, my lord."  Milo says this gravely, like this is the admission of a character flaw.   It’s not.

 

"That makes you a lucky man," Kylo remarks grimly.  For the Force is both a blessing and a curse for him.  Really, for all in his family. 

 

They are inside now and the twins come running up to him. Bane takes one look at Kylo's skeletal metal hand and he starts to scream.  Beside him, Hego follows suit.   They boys are so sensitive to everything that no doubt they perceive their father's pain associated with the scary looking hand.   Still, their reaction makes Kylo feel a bit freakish.  He frowns at this rejection.   Now one of the nursemaids runs up to retrieve the children and that only makes them cry harder. 

 

Kylo sighs.  His own frazzled self isn't in the mood for two screaming children, even if they are his own.  "When is Rey getting back?" he complains.  Rey will know how to calm the boys.   And Rey will know how to calm him.   Maybe Kylo can convince her to stay for dinner.  He doesn’t feel much like talking, but he wouldn’t mind some company after all that has happened.

 

"It will be several hours,” Milo answers.  “I believe that they are just getting started." He crosses to activate the large holonet screen on the wall. "I was watching before you arrived."

 

Nestor Ren's funeral is being broadcast on the holonet?  Kylo is shocked that Snoke is allowing this.  The official explanation for his friend's death had been an accident.  But Snoke had let it privately be known among his upper echelon of officers that Nestor Ren had been executed for treason.

 

Kylo steps forward to peer at the screen.  This is definitely not a military funeral.  It looks like a freak show.

 

"Milo, what is this?" he complains. 

 

"Cresta Cole will be laid to rest today.  She died three days ago at her apartment on Coruscant."

 

"Who?"  If Kylo is supposed to know who that is, he doesn't. 

 

"Cresta Cole.  She owned most of the brothels on Coruscant. In her later years, I believe that she was something of a philanthropist."

 

"So she was a Madame?"  Why is this woman’s funeral on the holonet?  And why is old Milo watching sensational crap like this?   "Did someone kill her or something?  Why is this news?"  And—wait—why is his Empress at this spectacle? 

 

Milo gives him a knowing smile man to man. "This is news because she is being buried at the Palpatine estate here on Naboo."  Then he answers Kylo’s unspoken question.  “Apparently, she and Rey somehow became friendly on Coruscant.”

 

“Buried at the Palpatine estate?”  This makes Kylo smirk. "Was old Sidious a good client?"  He shoots a questioning look at Milo.  Because of course Milo would know. 

 

"No," the Sith manservant replies.  "Darth Sidious was her husband."

 

"Her husband?"  Wait--had Rey told him something about this this woman long ago?  Kylo can't remember now.  "Husband?"  Kylo raises an eyebrow at this reveal. "Old Palpatine must have been a sly dog."

 

"Indeed he was," Milo agrees.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Balen Phasma contacts Rey to tell her about the passing of Cresta Cole.  And Rey tells Shan Damask.  I wish I could go, she laments to Snoke’s wife.  And then Rey tells Shan all about her visits to Lady Sidious.  An hour later Shan sends a message to Rey’s datapad:  ‘You’re going and I’m coming with you.’

 

The news of the passing of Coruscant’s notorious Madame is picked up by the holonet after a carefully worded, name-dropping, and innuendo-filled obituary is published.   The description of Cresta Cole’s life describes her as an entrepreneur of the Coruscant Underworld and it raises more questions than it answers.  Suddenly the press is intrigued and on a hunt for more.

 

Rey is certain that the salty old dame she knew would have loved all the fuss. 

 

The funeral is not on Coruscant, but on Naboo.  The secret Lady Sidious is to be buried on her Sith's country estate per her express wishes. It turns out that the business mogul Cresta Cole had planned her final exit with meticulous theatrical detail, not unlike the way she had run her businesses.   There are even pre-arranged transports from Coruscant to ferry employees, friends and business associates.  Clearly, Cresta Cole had planned for a rousing send-off. 

 

The Palpatine estate is a mob scene with guests everywhere.  The mix of attendees is as varied as the life the deceased had lived.  For there are ballerinas and society types and there are gangsters and call girls. There is even a Hutt in attendance.  He is seated as far as possible from the group of Falleens from Black Sun.  Everyone is wearing black but a lot of it is black lace, black leather and even some black latex.  And there is a lot more skin on display by the attendees than you typically see at a funeral. 

 

Up front, there are two reserved seats with a security perimeter.   Moments before things begin, the special guests arrive.  The Empress and Madame Snoke slowly file past as murmurs of recognition and speculation arise from the crowd.  Both Rey and Shan are covered in long hooded black cloaks, looking very much like the Sith ladies they are.  Here to pay their respects to the secret Sith lady they both knew.

 

Eyebrows raise once again when the coffin is revealed and it is draped in a flag boldly emblazoned with the six-spoked Imperial insignia. 

 

The service itself is very dignified and it is presided over by someone from something called the Church of the Force.  Rey and Shan exchange glances with one another at this incongruity.  But no one else seems to find it odd that the final benediction wishes the mourners the ancient Jedi blessing ‘May the Force Be With You.’  But that’s probably because those words mean nothing now in the modern secular Second Empire.  No one has any devotion to the ancient religion any more.  And besides, it’s all a bunch of simple tricks and nonsense. 

 

The press corps is out in full force to cover the event—and it truly is an event—and at the conclusion they pepper the air with shouted questions for Rey and Shan. 

 

“Ladies, what are you doing here?” 

 

“Did you know Cresta Cole?” 

 

“Does the First Order have plans to clean up the Coruscant Underworld?”

 

“Do you have a comment for us?” 

 

“Is it true that there was a coup attempt against the Emperor this week?”

 

Rey keeps walking the gauntlet of onlookers and reporters, but Shan stops and draws back her hood.  Snoke’s wife has always been far more comfortable in public than Rey.  Microphones and cameras are everywhere in Shan’s face as security rushes up to bat them away.  Then the shoving starts.  But with a regal wave of her hand, Madame Snoke calms all that.   And as the chaos ebbs, there is quiet anticipation.  Rey smiles at this.  Apparently, no one in the press had actually expected their questions to be answered.

 

Shan simply says, “Once, many years ago, Cresta Cole was kind to me when I needed it most.  I have never forgotten that.  I came today to honor her.”  Then the Supreme Leader’s wife pulls up her hood to signal that her comment is through. 

 

But it has only whetted the appetite of the media and again they jostle and holler for more.   Now they start dogging the notoriously tightlipped Empress for a statement.  For surely there is a story here.   But Rey keeps her mouth firmly shut.  No one in the Ren family needs to be taking any chances these days, she thinks. 

 

“Empress!  Will you tell us why you are here today?” 

 

“Can we get a comment, your Excellency?”

 

“Can you confirm the rumors that Cresta Cole was the longtime mistress to Emperor Palpatine?  Is that why she is being buried here?”

 

And this last question makes Shan pause.  She turns to walk back to the thicket of press as again Rey silently looks on.

 

“Cresta Cole is buried here because she was Sheev Palpatine’s wife for decades.  From before he was a Senator and before he was an Emperor.   You knew her as the Queen of the Coruscant Underworld, but she was also the unacknowledged Empress of the First Galactic Empire.”

 

This provokes another loud torrent of questions but the reigning ladies of the Second Empire have nothing further to add.  Together Shan and Rey sweep back in a trail of black velvet to their waiting transport.

 

When they are finally alone, Rey wants to know, “Why did you tell them that she was Palpatine’s wife?”  Rey is still wrapping her head around this giant public reveal.  For a secret of the Sith nearly a century old has now been revealed.

 

“You knew an old lady, Rey.  I knew a woman in her prime.  With flaming red hair, a mouth like a spacer and purple boots."   Shan looks thoughtful for a moment, clearly remembering something from long ago. "There were a lot of reasons why Cresta Cole was never known to be Sheev's wife.  When I met her, Cresta had made peace with that fact.  But I think she wanted it all the same.  And now that they are both gone, I think the galaxy can know the truth, don’t you?  I think that was what she would have wanted.”

 

Rey thinks back on the old lady who had listened quietly through Rey’s tears and then offered her tart advice.  She nods.  “Yes, I know that is what she would have wanted.” 

 

Whether it’s what Darth Sidious would have wanted is a different issue.  And Rey doesn’t know the answer to that.  But Shan Damask probably couldn’t care less what that man would have thought. 

 

"Go on ahead, Rey," Shan tells her as she gestures to the waiting transport. "I’m staying for a bit.  There's something I want to see here on the estate. I'll take some security with me and they will send another ship back for me."

 

"Where are you going?"  Rey is intrigued. And maybe a bit nosy. 

 

"Back to where it all began for me."  Shan Damask is looking a little wistful as she says this.  Rey can tell that today's funeral has brought up old ghosts for her friend.  Thinking of the past clearly has unsettled her.  

 

"There is a Sith temple hidden here on the estate. It's where I went to a Jedi picnic one afternoon and met a Sith lord."  Shan gives Rey a little smile. "I want to see if Snoke has put his name on the temple wall.  He always said he would get his name on the temple wall like the great Sith of old."  

 

That sounds like a dubious distinction to Rey, but she just nods.  

 

Shan leans in to give Rey a quick hug.  "Safe travels back to Coruscant."

 

"Actually, I'm going to Bast." Rey is not going back to that lonely palatial apartment on the Coruscant Upper Level. "I'm going home," she decides right then and there.   

 

Shan eyes her with surprise, but then smiles her approval.  "To visit the boys?"

 

"No," Rey admits. "To stay."  

 

Shan Damask smiles even wider now. "Good. I'm glad, Rey."   She thinks a moment before adding, "Cresta once told me that it all works out in the end.  And she was right.  Sometimes the end looks different than you expect and sometimes how you get to the end surprises you.  But it all works out.  And I know that it will work out for you and Lord Ren."  Shan looks away and sighs.  “In time, things will work out between our Sith too.”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

Milo is waiting for Rey on the Bast landing platform.   "Welcome home, Empress," he greets her with his habitual dignity and warm smile.  Then adds, "It is a pleasant surprise to see you back again today."

 

Rey had stayed two days at Bast Castle with the boys under unofficial house arrest before returning to Coruscant.  And she had only dropped by briefly this morning at Bast before heading on to the funeral.  She hadn’t told Milo where she was going.  "I was on Naboo," Rey now explains vaguely. 

 

And Milo already seems to know this.  And who she was with.  "Yes, my lady.  Is Madame with you?"  

 

"She went to see an old temple."

 

"Ah, yes."  Milo nods.  "To see a temple and to think up a good explanation for today, I'm sure.  You two are all over the holonet news, my lady."  He slants a glance her direction as they walk towards the castle.   "Lord Plagueis will not be pleased."

 

Rey looks to Milo with true alarm.  She is suddenly nervous.  “But Shan said it would be okay . . . “ she sputters.

 

The old servant smiles his reassurance. "In that case, do not worry, my lady. Lord Plagueis may rule the galaxy, but she rules him.  Now more than ever."  And then Milo leans in to tell her softly, "The master is back at home."  

 

"I saw."  Rey nods.  She had seen Kylo's shuttle parked on the landing pad.  And she knows that Kylo knows that she is here.  For surely he has felt her through the Force.

 

The ever astute Milo moves onto other, safer topics.  “The boys are still napping.  And we received two deliveries for you this morning, my lady.  From Madame Cole’s estate.” 

 

“Deliveries?”  Rey looks to Milo in surprise.  “Show me.”

 

Waiting in the foyer is a large industrial looking shipping crate.  And on a nearby table sits a wooden box with a hinged lid.  Dark and shiny and sleek.  Rey reaches to open the box and gasps at what she finds inside.  It is jewelry.  Lots of jewelry in a tangled heap of glittering stones.  Rings, bracelets, necklaces, even a crown.  It’s a haphazard collection of a lifetime of tokens, thrown together like a treasure chest from a fairytale.  Like a king’s ransom of old.  These are the crown jewels of the First Galactic Empire.

 

“Wow,” is all Rey can say.   She meets Milo’s eyes in amazement.

 

Rey starts lifting out pieces to inspect them and each one is more beautiful than the next.  Big bold designs that are well suited to Lady Sidious’ in-your-face personality but probably better suited for the outsize build of a woman like Shan Damask.  On the little birdlike Cresta Cole, these pieces must have been gaudy.  But maybe, Rey thinks as she recalls Madame Cole’s garish makeup, that was the point.  And Darth Sidious knew what made his Empress happy.

 

Holding up a diamond encrusted bangle to the light, Rey spies an inscription on the inside.  ‘Love to Red on Empire Day’ it says and there is a date using the old school, pre-Rebellion calendar convention.  And now Rey begins looking at the jewels not to admire their beauty but to read the personal engravings.  She sees ‘Happy Birthday Empress’ and ‘For Lady Sidious.’  And the very intriguing ‘I’m sorry, Red.  Forgive me.’  There must be a story behind each jewel, now lost to time and buried with the mysterious Cresta Cole.

 

Rey’s attention is so consumed with the box that she jumps when she hears Kylo’s voice from close behind.  “Hello, Rey.” 

 

Her heart starts pounding as she turns to see her estranged husband.  And, oh, how pale he looks.  But how grateful she is to see him alive.  Rey has the urge to run into his arms.  But she doesn’t.  “Kylo.” 

 

Beside her, Milo takes the Emperor’s arrival as his cue to leave.  She and Kylo are alone together now.

 

The last time Rey had seen Kylo at Bast Castle many months ago, her husband had turned on heel and left at the very sight of her.  Their nights together at Coruscant have made things considerably less tense.  But in the harsh light of day with their clothes on, things are still very uncertain between them.  Especially given all that happened four days ago with Snoke.

 

Rey’s eyes find the metal skeleton that is now his right hand and they linger.  “Does that hurt as much as I think it does?” she asks in a small voice.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Oh, Kylo.”  She steps towards him but he turns away from her.  Pretending now to be interested in the large crate.   With a wife’s familiar eye, Rey sees the set of his jaw and the slight slump of his shoulders and knows that Kylo is hurting more over his defeat to Snoke than over the loss of his hand.  Kylo Ren is not used to defeat.   When was the last time her husband had been defeated?  Oh, yes, the Starkiller.  Back then, Kylo had lost to the Resistance.  And to her.

 

A lot has changed since then.

 

"Shan told me what happened," Rey says quietly, watching him closely now. 

 

He doesn’t look up.  "Yeah." 

 

“You didn’t answer any of my messages.”  This comes out kind of like a gripe and Rey bites her lip.  She tries again.  "I'm sorry about Nestor.  I always liked him."

 

"Yeah."

 

Kylo doesn't want to talk about it.  That much is clear.  Well, she won't force it.  Rey isn't big on talking things out either. 

 

“I wish you had told me,” Rey can’t hold back this complaint.  Kylo might have at least warned her so that she and the boys could get to safety.  “They came to arrest me.  Twice.”

 

“Milo told me that you shot two officers.”

 

“I set for stun,” Rey grumbles defensively.

 

Kylo doesn’t reply.  He's so unlike himself right now, Rey sees. All the cocksure arrogance and swagger is gone.  Her Kylo seems so . . . diminished.  So humbled.  She doesn't recognize this pensive man as her husband. 

 

She knew her boys needed her.  Now she sees that her Sith needs her too.   Right now, he looks like a man who needs a wife to take care of him. 

 

“What is all this?” he asks, looking over her shoulder at the box of gems.

 

“Cresta Cole left me her jewelry.  I think it all came from Emperor Palpatine based on the engravings.”

 

Kylo reaches his left hand into the pile and pulls out a ring with a large stone.   “This looks like something my mother would have worn,” he remarks softly. 

 

“Is there an inscription?”  Rey asks.

 

He holds the ring up to the light.  “Death Star Completed,” Kylo reads aloud.  Then he smirks slightly. It’s the first glimpse of the real Kylo that’s she has seen.  “I’ll bet she never wore that one.”  

 

Rey looks over and the ring looks familiar.  “Actually, I think she did wear it.  I think she was wearing it when I met her last.”

 

"You must have known her pretty well for her to leave you all this," he comments as he looks to Rey for an explanation.

 

"Not really,” she shrugs.  “I met her by accident.  I only went to see her a few times."

 

"Then you made quite an impression, Rey.”   Kylo replaces the ring in the box.  “You never told me about her.”  Rey can hear the underlying edge to his comment.  Neither of them has been sharing much with each other.  Even with the nights on Coruscant, she and Kylo have been living separate lives.  And that’s why she hadn’t known of his plans for Snoke and he hadn’t known of her friendship with Lady Sidious.  “What did you talk about?" Kylo wants to know.

 

"Mostly about you," Rey admits. "And the Sith.  She was married to Palpatine for sixty years." 

 

"Then she would have known Vader," he surmises.

 

"She did.  She called him 'the kid.'"  Kylo looks over at her in surprise.  No doubt her Sith thinks that moniker to be the height of disrespect for his revered grandfather.  But Rey shrugs.  "Even Darth Vader was young once.”  Rey sighs and her voice tails off.  “There was a lot that I never got the chance to ask her."  She will miss the profane old lady who spoke from the heart.  "I'm going to miss her," Rey whispers.  And she brushes away a tear. 

 

Kylo reaches an arm around her waist.  It’s his right arm and she can’t help but notice that he moves it gingerly.  It’s clear he’s in pain. 

 

"What is the rest of this stuff?”  He reaches back into the jewel box and picks up the crown.  Then he reaches to place it on Rey’s head.  “There,” he tells her as he looks Rey over.  “Now you look like a Sith Empress.”  And she does.  Rey is still dressed for the funeral in the blood red dress and hooded black cape she has owned for years now.   She still pulls them out for important occasions and public appearances.   Rey knows that Kylo has always liked seeing her garbed in the First Order's colors as his lady.  “You look like my Empress,” he says softly. 

 

“Kylo, I—“

 

“There’s a note in here,” he interrupts as he plucks out a scrap of paper to hand it to Rey.  “It must be for you.”

 

Rey unfolds the heavy, old fashioned paper that no one but a woman over a century old would use.   “Wear these proudly, Empress, and pass them on,” Rey reads aloud, squinting to make out the words written in spidery handwriting.  “Now and forever the Sith shall rule the galaxy.  May you—“  Rey’s voice falls silent.

 

“May you what?”  Kylo prompts her.

 

Rey takes a ragged breath before she continues.  “May you stand at your Sith’s side the way I never could.  And may you—“  She pauses again.  Sniffs.  And starts to cry as she mumbles out the remaining words.  “May you always remain together forever in the Force.”

 

At her side, Kylo shifts his weight and looks uncomfortable in the way men always do when they see a woman cry.  As if he’s not sure what to do. 

 

And Rey is not sure what she’s crying for.  Are these tears for Cresta Cole, for the stress of the last four days, for her and Kylo, or for Nestor Ren?  Or maybe for all that and more.  For months of separation, for loneliness amid the splendor of Coruscant, for missing her twin boys and for her beloved lost Sheev?  There is a lot for Rey to cry for.  That’s not even the half of it.  But dammit, Rey is tired of crying.  So furiously, she wipes at her eyes, smearing her makeup and blinking back the remaining tears.

 

“Rey—“

 

She brushes past Kylo and marches over to the big crate.  “Let’s see what’s in here,” she says in as normal a voice as possible.  And Kylo takes the hint to move on.  The crate lid is heavy and cumbersome and Rey can’t quite manage it on her own.  But when Kylo reaches to help she hisses at him to stop.   “Don’t!  You’ll hurt yourself!” 

 

And that must annoy him because he grabs the lid with both hands and wrenches it off.  Then recoils and swears from the pain.  “Fuck!  This thing fucking hurts!”  And then her bitterly frustrated and angry Sith turns and punches a hole in the wall with his good left hand.  And then he punches again.  “I hate him!  I hate what he did to you, Rey!  And I can’t do a fucking thing about it!  Not for years at least . . . ”  The wave of fury is spent now and her unhappy Sith looks down into her eyes.  “I did it for you, Rey.  To keep you safe.  So that he could never hurt you again.  And I failed.”  Kylo looks away now and says the two hardest words for him to say.  “I’m sorry.  Rey, I’m sorry I failed you.”

 

“I know.”  Rey reaches for his left hand.  His knuckles are bleeding a little and she wipes away blood.  Then she turns his hand over to reveal his palm.  It still has the slashing scar that matches her own.  The scar that means forever.  “I’m just glad that you are safe, Kylo.  All I wanted was for you to come back to me.  I don’t care about Snoke.  All I care about is you.”

 

He pulls her into his arms now and they stand together in a tight embrace.  Lady Sidious’ crown lays crooked on her head and mascara runs down her cheeks.  And maybe that’s fitting because tears seem to come with the job of being a Sith’s lady. 

 

“Stay here tonight, Rey.  Stay with me.  Please.”

 

Please?  Did Kylo just say please?  “Yes.”  Instantly she agrees. 

 

And Sith that he is, Kylo always wants more.  So he presses her further.  “Tonight and then forever, Rey.  Come back home to us.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Really?”  Surprised, he pulls back from the embrace now to look her in the eye.  “You’re really coming home to stay?”

 

“Yes.” Rey nods at him.  “I decided today at the funeral.  I want us to be a family again, Kylo.  I want us to be happy again.”  She has risked so much for their family, and now he has risked so much for their family.  As the words flow from her lips, she’s certain that this is the right decision. 

 

Kylo always said that they would be the Skywalkers who finally got it right and had it all.  An empire, a dynasty and the Force in balance, with her Light aligned in support of his Darkness.  Rey brushes back the nagging doubts from the warnings of Leia Organa.  Because this girl from Jakku is determined to get her happy ending on the Dark Side.   She wants this for herself, for her family and for the galaxy.

 

Kylo smiles down at her.  It’s the first smile she’s seen from him today.  He looks so relieved, she thinks.  And just as he’s about to kiss her, they are interrupted by something beeping loudly in the crate. 

 

The crate.  Once Kyo had started punching the wall, Rey had forgotten about all about the crate.

 

The both turn to peer into it.  Cresta Cole’s ancient protocol droid is lying face up in the crate in low power mode.  He looks to be finishing a reboot cycle.  The droid is lying on what appears to be stacks of old paperbound books inside clear protective covers.   The droid blinks on now and focuses on Rey.  He must recognize her because the droid automatically plays a hologram recording. 

 

It’s Cresta Cole with her rainbow makeup and cherry red lipstick sitting in her hoverchair next to her purple couch.

 

“Four Dee, are we recording?  Yes?  Alright then.  Rey, when I’m dead my lawyers are going to send you some books for your Sith.  Sheev stole them from the Muun long ago.  Tell your man to study them hard and hopefully he will find some secrets in them to use to kill the Muun.  Someone needs to kill that fucking Muun.”

 

“11-4D here belongs to the Muun.  You might as well give him back.  The Empire was never able to break whatever encryption the droid has to get to all the data from the Muun’s Force experiments.  Sheev and the kid tried on and off for years but this damn droid won’t give up his secrets.  Whatever.  Keep him if you want.  Or sell him for scrap.  It’s up to you.”

 

“Rey, I’m also going to send you my jewelry.  You need some bling, girl.  And for Gods’ sake, wear it.  Don’t let it sit in the box.  Seriously, you won’t look like an Empress without some bling.  So put on my crown and hold your head high and tell yourself I may be from Jakku but I’m the fucking Empress now so eat your heart out all you haters.”  The old lady dissolves into cackles at this.  And the cackles dissolve into hacking coughs.  Finally, Lady Sidious regains her breath and she stares triumphant right into the camera.  “Not dead yet!  Okay, we’re done.   Stop recording, Four Dee.”

 

The hologram fuzzes out.  Kylo looks to Rey.  He’s a bit incredulous.  “That was her?  That was Lady Sidious?”

 

“She was pretty amazing, Kylo.”

 

“That’s one way to describe her,” he answers dryly.  Then he reaches up to straighten the crown Rey wears.  “She’s right, though. You should wear this.  It looks good on you.”  A shadow crosses his features as he tells her, “Nestor once told me to buy you a crown.  But instead I bought you a TIE.”

 

“I like the TIE better.  Nothing says I love you like a red TIE fighter.”

 

“That’s exactly what I thought.”  Kylo looks serious now.  “I do love you, Rey.”

 

“I know, Kylo.”  She holds out her left palm face up and he covers it with his own left palm.  Scar matches scar.  Rey looks down at their joined hands, remembering that night long ago here at Bast in the moonlight.  “I never stopped loving you, Kylo.  I couldn’t.  I tried,” she confesses softly.  “But I couldn’t.”

 

“I know, Rey.”

 

She looks up now and he claims her mouth for a kiss.  It is gentle and reverent.  “Welcome home,” he whispers. 

 

Rey nods.  “This is where I belong."

 

THE END


	24. Fulcrum Part Two Notes

I had several reasons for writing this story that I’d like to share, along with a few thoughts on plot and characterization. 

 

First, I wanted to rehabilitate my Kylo character a bit after the ending of _Fulcrum_.  I wanted readers to appreciate that in his own way Kylo loves Rey and that he truly mourns his little son Sheev.  There is an element of sacrifice here from Kylo’s perspective (selfish and cruel though the act of killing Sheev may be), and I think that’s important to understanding the ending of _Fulcrum_.   I’m not excusing what he did, just elaborating on the context a bit. 

 

And monster that Kylo is, he pales in comparison to Snoke who is a very sophisticated version of evil.  Snoke’s style is surprisingly non-confrontational and indirect for many things (except dealing with his Apprentice).  He’s sort of the ultimate wolf in sheep’s clothing—to borrow a trite metaphor I used in _Fifth Wife_.  Snoke lures Rey into a comfort zone.   Little by little she gets manipulated into sympathy for Snoke because our Rey is compassionate by nature and because Snoke is deceptively kind and patient.  He’s biding his time for Rey like he once bided his time watching Palpatine’s Empire.   In some ways, Snoke is very effective because you want to like him . . . sort of.

 

I also wrote _Part Two_ so Rey could get her memory back and learn the whole story about Sheev.  While the “in the dark” version of Rey is not the Stepford wife some readers feared she would end up, at the beginning of _Part Two_ Rey has lost an awful lot of meaning as a person and in her relationship to Kylo because Snoke wiped her memories.  I wanted her to reclaim her mind and to gain more agency in _Part Two_.   

 

Rey comes into her potential in the Force in _Part Two_.  You saw the beginnings of that in _Fulcrum_ , but she spends much of that fic resisting Kylo’s repeated attempts to interest her in developing her Force powers.  Rey is mostly afraid of the Force because she’s only ever seen it used for evil.  But in _Part Two_ we see her developing and refining her unique skills.

 

I also wrote _Part Two_ to bring back Shan.  In my mind, Shan is a tempering influence on the very worst of Snoke’s character.  And, I couldn’t see Snoke keeping his hands off our Rey of Light long term unless Snoke had his own Light Side wifey.    It just wouldn’t be in keeping for Snoke’s character to show that sort of restraint.   

 

_Fifth Wife_ ended rather early on in the Snoke-Shan relationship mostly because it was the logical stopping point.  We never get to ‘I love you’ in _Fifth Wife._   But that couple had years more together to deepen their emotional bond.  That connection is not shown due to the gap in the two story timeframes.  Perhaps that's a big omission because some readers felt that Snoke wouldn't bother doing all this for Shan, and that he would have moved on to the sixth wife by now.

 

The gothic references continue in _Part Two_.   _Fulcrum_ had a portrait of a dead wife and a castle with an elderly caretaker full of secrets and a treasure trove in the basement.  _Part Two_ has a dead wife entombed in the basement guarded by her monstrous, magical husband-lover.  Snoke is a combination of Mr. Rochester (only he’s not hiding a crazy wife, he’s hiding a dead one) and Heathcliff (remember when he dug up the dead Cathy?  Resurrection-happy Snoke would have done that).  And, of course, nothing is more gothic than our two brooding and hooded anti-hero Sith. 

 

So . . . the ending.  Why doesn't Kylo kill Snoke?  Because he can’t. 

 

I wanted the ending to _Part Two_ to compliment the original ending.  Kylo ends _Fulcrum_ victorious at war but in personal defeat with the loss of his son.  He ends _Part Two_ in defeat to Snoke but with a personal victory in his reconciliation with Rey.    Kylo still gets to rule the galaxy with his family at his side like he had planned.  But he will never get to be the top dog Sith.  So once again the bad guys who do bad things go unpunished.  Only this time, the bad guy is Snoke. 

 

Were you rooting for Kylo to kill Snoke?  I know that lots of readers were looking for that ending.  But while the impetus of the conflict in _Part Two_ is Snoke abusing Rey, the real conflict that keeps our lovers apart is the killing of Sheev Ren.  Killing Snoke doesn't solve this.   And so I wanted the story to end with Kylo still under Snoke's thumb.   That's how real life works.  We all have conflicts that we can’t walk away from and have to deal with.  The boss from Hell.  The frenemy.  The ex-husband you have joint custody with.  The difficult in-laws.  Whoever is in your life who complicates things but you can't leave them behind. 

 

For many of us, this is our family.  And that's the case here too with Snoke. You don't get to choose your family. Embarrassing bad behavior and all, they are yours for life.  Maybe they usually surprise you in a bad way, but occasionally they surprise you in a good way like Snoke does at the end when he lets Kylo live.

 

I really like the dynamic of making the Sith a dysfunctional family. Families--like marriages--are a complicated mix of love and hate and history.  So too with my Sith.  I had always planned that Snoke would be the Skywalker patriarch, but I never got to explore that idea in the original _Fulcrum_.  It was in the first draft, but ultimately it was mostly revised out of the story.  The concept of Kylo being treated as a son by Snoke and even called a son still remains in _Fulcrum_ here and there.  At one point, Snoke even welcomes Rey to his family when he meets her the first time. 

 

I opted to omit most of the Sith family stuff in _Fulcrum_ because I didn't want to muddy the waters with Kylo's very real angst over his mother and uncle. Our anti-hero Kylo spends most of the latter half of _Fulcrum_ killing his kin--first Leia, then Luke and finally Sheev--even while he is trying to create with Rey the loving nuclear family they both never had.  And, well, it doesn't end happily for anyone. 

 

But the idea of family remained in my head and it shows up in _Fifth Wife_. Shan sees the Skywalker clan in the future but the exact relationship to her and Snoke isn't clear.  Shan gets led astray trying to change the Skywalker destiny she foresees. And, of course, she can't.  Because destiny is a trap for the unwary.

 

Once again, I came back to the Sith as family idea in _Part Two_. It adds a whole creepy dimension to Kylo and Rey's interactions with Snoke and it plays off the largest obstacle between Kylo and Rey--the sacrifice of their son Sheev at the end of _Fulcrum_. 

 

Do you have a perfect family?  I don't. Mine can be very critical and embarrassing and stubborn.  And I'm not the greatest daughter, sister, mother or wife.  We don't rise to the Skywalker levels of dysfunction, but we have our moments.  That's the thing about family--they can infuriate you but you still have to live with them. And you might continue to see them and love them even if they drive you crazy and treat you badly.  And that's why the family dysfunction dynamic seems to work well for my Sith.  It's also why the story ends with all the major characters alive.  Kylo, Snoke, Rey and Shan are all going to have to continue to deal with each other in the future. 

 

But sometimes you just can't deal with your family. Rey ends _Fulcrum_ in a lie and when she learns the truth in _Part Two_ , she basically checks out of the Skywalker clan as much as possible.  She and Kylo are distant and she has pulled back too from her kids.  I think that surprised some readers because Rey was such a devoted mother in _Fulcrum_ and she endured just about everything to keep her family together.  But in _Part Two_ , Rey becomes the obstacle that keeps her family apart.  This was very intentional.  I wanted Rey to be at a breaking point. Everyone has their limits to how they will allow themselves to be treated and Rey finally found hers. 

 

Anyone who's been in a long term relationship has lived through a 'rough patch.'  Kylo and Rey have more than just the usual marital challenges, of course.  I like to think that Rey's experience surviving on Jakku is a great lead up to her life with Kylo.  Rey is still surviving but her concerns are not food and water anymore.  Compared to what Rey is now dealing with, food and water are much simpler problems to solve.   

 

Have you had the experience of grief or depression?  Rey struggles with this. I know we all love Rey the fighter, but even strong people are vulnerable and struggle now and then. Through much of this story, Rey struggles to find her way.  She does eventually go back to her family and, hopefully, to much happiness again.  Life goes on.  And that's a good thing.

 

_Fulcrum_ shocked and offended people from start to finish.  A vocal segment of readers couldn't conceive of a Rey character who had so many insecurities and who was so unaccustomed to healthy romantic relationships that she would fall for the manipulative, abusive Kylo.  It amused me to see that this time around, readers wanted to get our lovers back together quicker than I did.  I wanted to give Rey time to hurt for her lost Sheev and her betrayals.  I wanted her to be angry first and then cold.  And I wanted Kylo to grovel and beg.  All so that when Rey does return to Kylo it is an affirmative choice.

 

Kylo struggles through _Part Two_ from start to finish.   He struggles with his guilt over his son, with his evolving role as Emperor, and with his relationships to Rey and to Snoke. He has achieved his dream job and, well, it's harder than he thought it would be.  And for most of this story, he's doing it without support from Rey and amid significant conflict with his Master.  Then, at the ending, Kylo is humbled.  There are a few very vulnerable moments for Kylo in _Fulcrum,_ but for the most part Kylo is the in command Sith chapter after chapter.  I thought it was a nice irony to have him victorious and in command years later, but still humbled nonetheless.   

 

Shan Damask from the _Fifth Wife_ shows up in this story. She's a plot device at the beginning --her resurrection sets all sorts of betrayals in motion--and she goes on to play a key role in the two pivotal conflict scenes between Snoke and Kylo.  I like to think that Shan exerts a tempering influence over the worst of Snoke's impulses.  Would the Starkiller have occurred if Shan were around?  Maybe.  But maybe not. 

 

Shan is a character who upends the hero Jedi stereotype of the SW universe. In fact, Shan was deliberately written in _Fifth Wife_ to be the anti-Rey in most every aspect.  (See the Notes to _Fifth Wife_ for more explanation on this point.)   Shan is the sort of malleable nice girl a controlling guy like Snoke chooses.    She's shy of conflict and she would never have a Kylo/Rey-style screaming match with Snoke.   In fact, Shan doesn't stand up to Snoke on much of anything until, of course, she does so spectacularly.  And, true Jedi that she is, in _Part Two_ Shan is only motivated to challenge Snoke on behalf of another.  Twice, she saves Kylo.

 

Shan is one of those women who at first glance might appear very innocuous, maybe even mostly decorative.   She doesn't have a direct or challenging personality and so her influence is not always apparent.  But it’s there.  She might be the Padawan who barely passed the Jedi trials, but she's the only person in my AU who confronts Snoke and gets her way.  Shan knows to reason with the ever-rational Sith Master.  And Snoke listens to reason.  I think Shan is type of woman Snoke would actually listen to. He won't stand for being lectured to or challenged by a Leia Organa type because of his own dominant personality.  It takes a quieter approach to sway him.  Milo, incidentally, has this same sort of deft, quiet approach with Kylo and Rey in _Fulcrum._

 

I especially like the irony that Shan the Jedi who eschewed attachments ends up holding the Skywalker Sith clan together. 

 

_Part Two_ is a Reylo fic, so the reader doesn’t get a chance to see any interaction solely between Snoke and Shan.  But I’m sure Shan wasn’t entirely happy to be resurrected, especially given the cost to Kylo and Rey. 

 

Consider Shan’s perspective from Chapter 21 of _Fifth Wife:_

 

> _She wonders what forever with this Sith might have been like. Would she have been the last Jedi left alive, kept alive to serve as the personal Light for a man grown impossibly Dark? With her power offered up to him nightly, the balm for a soul that might otherwise be consumed by the destructive power of the shadow Force? Shan stares at his gleaming sword now and thinks perhaps things are better this way. She would never want to live long enough to be the last of anything. To be the lonely remnant of bygone times._

 

Of course, this is how things do ultimately turn out for Shan.  Is she okay with that now because she’s with her beloved Snoke?  We know that Snoke is crazy about Shan, but is she as in love with him?  A lot of the Shan-Snoke story is missing, so you can imagine it for yourself. 

 

Cresta Cole is in this story only because she was in the end to the _Fifth Wife_ / _Fulcrum_ epilogue.  I didn’t feel like I could introduce her character to _Fulcrum_ readers and then ignore her altogether in _Part Two_.  At the time of writing the epilogue, I was a couple of chapters into my Cresta/Sidious love story.  I was planning for that duo to be my next fic.  But on a whim, I picked up _Fulcrum_ again and ended up writing _Part Two_.  At first, I was sort of annoyed by having to deal with Cresta as a character, but then she seemed like a great sounding board for Rey.  And since I had already begun thinking of the Cresta/Sidious backstory, Cresta’s scenes were a fun opportunity to drop little hints for that fic.

 

Cresta is one of those people who have no filter to what they say.  Pretty much everything they think comes right out of their mouth.  Sometimes, that’s refreshing and candid. Other times, it’s rude and insensitive.  But it’s always sincere and real, no matter how offensive.  Old people can be like that, although this is pretty much Cresta’s personality all along. 

 

Cresta/Sidious is still coming.  Those two will be my star crossed lovers in a galaxy far, far away.  Kept apart by a meddling and disapproving Snoke.  Our mastermind Sith can be a controlling asshole where his apprentices are concerned. 

 

So why am I going to write “I married a Sith” Version 3.0?  Well, with Cresta I want to keep exploring different female heroes.  I’m super excited that the SW universe is getting deeper and broader and more inclusive in so many ways with Episode 7 and now Rogue One.  I’m really interested in seeing female protagonists of all types.  There are lots of ways to make an impact in life as a woman, and you don’t have to swing a lightsaber to do it.  Cresta has a speech along those lines in _Part Two_ because this is an important point for me.   Just because a character has a lot of traditional female aspects (like Shan) doesn’t mean she isn’t important and interesting.   And it’s not necessarily empowering to take a traditional male hero role and drop a woman into it.  That often misses some of the drama of the female perspective.  I am by no means an expert on gender relations and our modern world keeps evolving in its ideas about gender (which is a good thing).  But from my vantage point as a writer, gender makes an impact and you see that in my writing.

 

I like to show my female characters in relation to others (children, husbands, family, friends) because I think that relationships are very central to most women’s experiences and life decisions.  My Rey spends most of _Fulcrum_ struggling to create a nuclear family and compromising again and again for that goal.  That’s actually a very traditional female character arc, even if it’s experienced by a non-traditional badass woman.   Then Shan the Jedi girl who doesn’t want an attachment (and isn’t keen on motherhood) ends up the wife/mother/helpmate to a Sith disguised as a socialite in _Fifth Wife_.   

 

Modern women’s lives are complicated like that.  We are a mix of old and new, whether we work outside the home or not, whether we are mothers or not.   And what we want in life changes over time and with the influence of others.  Sometimes that can lead you to a life you never thought you would have or would want.  In this respect, I like to think that my fics are motivated to show a female twist on the ‘heroes journey’ concept. 

 

My AU of the Sith is not a morality play and I am not trying to teach any life lessons with my writing.   I'm also not trying to romanticize bad behavior, especially abuse or violence against women and children.  But I want my Sith to be true to their warped ideals and mostly consistent in their actions.   These are not watered down versions of bad guys.  They are monsters through and through, and this has ramifications on themselves and their families.  It's twisted and dark, for certain. But I hope it's also interesting and, on the whole, fun to read.  My Sith have different talents and personalities, there are conflicts and rivalries between them, but also admiration and true regard.   

 

Please note that every chapter of my fics is written from a specific character’s point of view, and that tends to color their attitudes and perceptions.  There are a lot of ‘unreliable narrator’ type moments in my stories.  I’m not endorsing the views of my characters, I’m just presenting them.   I don’t craft my stories to shock or anger readers, and there are plenty of fics out there with much more explicit and pervasive sex and violence. 

 

In preparing to revisit my Reylo drama, I went back and re-read _Fulcrum_.  All in all, I am happy with most of that work.  There are points that are clunky and awkward, and aspects of it that I might write differently.  But on the whole, I feel as though it truly presents the vision I had in mind.  I’m not a trained writer and I do this mostly on my phone.  I also knew that the rape story premise would alienate many readers.  But I did my best to write a story that would be rich in detail, conflict and emotion.    And I wanted to show the drama of SW from the perspective of the Dark Side, including all its excesses and violence.

 

There are a couple of _Fulcrum_ chapters that struck me as incredibly challenging now that I have some distance from the actual writing of the fic.  Chapter 13 (Kylo and Rey’s first night together) especially is very hard to read.  It’s probably the most revised chapter in all of fan fiction ever, and I kept making it more and more raw.  Not with explicit sex, but with true hurt.  That chapter was a huge plot point and character exposition rolled into one.  But damn, it’s hard to read.  And with Chapter 13 taken in close context to Chapter 15 (Rey’s return to Kylo) and Chapter 16 (the Reylo detente), Fulcrum takes a very dark turn.  Upon re-reading this portion of the tale, I’m not surprised many readers couldn’t stay with me. 

 

Chapter 30 (The aftermath of Leia) is also very hard to read.  But it’s hands down one of the best parts of _Fulcrum_ , I think, and I’m quite proud of it.  I am also proud of the opening scene with Snoke in Chapter 2, the Reylo bickering in Chapter 11, the dance of lies Rey crafts for General Hux in Chapter 18, the Sith marriage in Chapter 20, Kylo’s self-doubt in Chapter 32, and the tragedy of Chapter 35. 

 

_Fulcrum_ had lots of moments of humor, and that’s absent from _Part Two_.  Honestly, there were not a lot of occasions for laugh out loud humor in the continuation. 

 

Thank you to everyone who read this fic.  And thanks to everyone who commented.  I always read and consider the comments, even if I don’t usually respond to them.    I find the comments to be very helpful, even the critical ones. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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